


The Septarsis Decree

by Detective_Odin_Ashcroft_52



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil, XCOM (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adult Language, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And a whole lot more - Freeform, Blood and Gore, Dark Humor, Divergence becomes pretty obvious in this first chapter alone, Drama, Fantasy, Graphic Violence, Horror, I'm not one to use OCs often but given the crossover. They are necessary, It's a work in progress, Monster AND Human Oppression, Multi, Original Player Characters, Political and Moral Elements at Play, Prejudice, References galore, Science Fiction, Still terrible with tags as you can see, hopefully, meets, will add more tags as time goes on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-05-05 17:42:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14623803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Detective_Odin_Ashcroft_52/pseuds/Detective_Odin_Ashcroft_52
Summary: To His People, He Was Their General...To His Enemies, He Was The Lizard...But when flung off into another dimension far from home, dropped into a war with a familiar common goal, to unite against the invading forces of unimaginable power and alien origin...To His New 'Allies', He Was...Toffee...





	1. Operation : Banished Serpent

**Author's Note:**

> Boy, I'm just ASKING for trouble for starting yet ANOTHER story while my first has hardly started, aren't I?
> 
> But while plotting out and working on "For The Want Of A Spell...", I got an idea popped into my brain involving another franchise I was deeply in love with, and well, while trying to focus on my first work, this one wouldn't leave me alone until I put it to paper. 
> 
> So now I got TWO stories to tell, and don't know who will get to the finish line first...but I do have plans for both. Might be awhile between updates, but with these two going, might see a fair rotation. For now though, hope you enjoy!

“I wish to speak to the General” called out a polite, calm but very _young_ sounding voice

“The General?” replied one of his lieutenants, followed by the arrogant laughter of his army.

A rumbling sigh came deep from within his chest as he’d rise from his quiet study of the kingdom’s map. He thought he would have time to best plot out all of the possible weak points, to best strike at once and use the confusion to defuse any and all resistance before it could be roused.

But, this meeting was inevitable. Striding with grace, The General, often known by the moniker of “The Lizard” as well, pushed back the draping curtains, the clunk and clank of rattling skulls, called forth

“ ** _Silence_**!”

And his word was met with immediate deathly stillness as all eyes turned to him. The Septarian follow forth, feeling every one of his soldier’s gaze upon him. Fear, wonder, admiration, countless emotions all so easily given onto him, their leader. They had all once served a king, a royal line, like many other civilizations, but unlike other kingdoms, their king was a weak and cowardly fool. He sought to make peace with the invaders, to give up more of _THEIR_ land, _THEIR_ resources, _THEIR LIVES_ , just so they could live in ‘harmony’ with _THEM_. The weak Mewmans who claim sovereignty over land they had fumbled upon, taken from its true natives. He’d seen their rise in this land…and the fall of many others in the invaders wake.

So many _years_.

So many **lives**.

**_Wasted_**.

If only they had seen the danger they posed, if only they united as one and struck these wretches when they first came, it would still be…they would still be…

His mind had been drifting to the past again, but on the outside, those cold calculating eyes would be set upon the future, in particular, the future queen of Mewni, the young Moon Butterfly.

She was…indeed, very young. A foolish girl clearly playing the part of a queen she had yet to grow into. Acting more mature and sure of herself and whatever magicks she could summon forth. And that was the problem.

_The Magic_.

**_The Wand._ **

It was in that one object that all of The Lizard’s hatred could be focused upon. Not just the literal power it can summon forth, twisting the very laws of nature and allowing its user to bend everything to their whim. But it’s symbolic nature as well. With it, a whole kingdom of these pathetic Mewmans, from the highest courts, to the lowliest peasantry, could think themselves higher than any other creature. That the ‘monsters’ as they called beings like himself and his army, were nothing but animals, mindless and truly nothing more then something to hunt, to put in their place, to be _Put_ **Down**.

He remembered such disgust expressed by the previous Queen’s aide, looking at his former king, his guards as well as himself as he gush such abuse. What sort of ambassador was this meant to be? Had they not come to speak of peace? Or surrender. It was clear that the Queen was not against her aide expressing his mind, though her look spoke of…Conflict? Embarrassment? Shame?

But she continued to stand by silently and let him continue on and on. His former liege did nothing, just sitting there, taking it, as if he was indeed, beneath this _Mewman’s_ station and not royalty himself. The aide, smugly smiling as he spat ever hateful and disgusting word, so proud to be a Mewman and not a beast like them…it was such a shame that The General could only experience the look on that Mewman’s face as the life left his eyes only once.

What happened with Queen Comet, however… _that_ …did not go as he had hoped. Especially as their coward of a king, abandoned his own people and fled to the Mewmans for protection, for mercy, for forgiveness… _with the **damned** Wand_. The wand now held in the slain Queen’s daughter’s possession. His eyes finally left that terrible item and locked with the young Mewman Princess, and put on a glacial smile, sharp teeth bared like chipped ice.

“Hello, Princess…”

He even deigned to give her a half bow, mocking the expected civility that is to be shared between two equals. And yet the brat remained seated, idly cutting into a piece of meat with fork and knife, and eating. Her mother had the courtesy to at least act like he was worth her time. But why should he expect anything more from a _Mewman_.

“I presume you’re the one they call, The Lizard…”

Standing straighter, smiling slipping from his lips, eyes half lidded with little interests in the conversation or the princess, he replied

“Yes, though you may call me, Toffee…”

Raising a brow, the impudent little chit scoffed

“Toffee? How is _THAT_ any better…?”

Growing very tired of this, Toffee continued on

“What do you **_want_**?”

She would resume eating that leg of meat, and dared to continue acting so haughtily as if they were but foolish children in the court of her majesty, as opposed to being utterly surrounded by _his_ soldiers.

That… **that** was _not_ to be expected.

_That was not right_.

This was a young girl who should be mourning her mother’s passing. He had studied the Royal Family extensively, and knew how tight the bond between mother and daughter had been, far closer than that of the king and his daughter. And yet reading her body language, he could see it was an act but…she was **still** _too_ sure.

There was something else in play.

And Toffee **_hated_** surprises.

“I want you and your army to leave immediately. Or Face The Consequences.”

Toffee frowned, eyes narrowing.

Way too confident.

Way too controlled.

She had set _something_ in motion, he knew it then. He considered the possibilities. She had the Wand, it wasn’t out of the question she had access to the Butterfly Family Book of Spells. Which meant Glossaryck could’ve…no, he’d learn enough of the small but powerful little mischief maker. He’d never help her outright.

Then what… ** _Ah_**.

While his lieutenants would take charge to goad and deride the young girl’s ultimatum, The General had come to a realization: Moon had perhaps risked using The Forbidden Spells.

One of **_Eclipsa’s_** spells.

**_That_** …Cannot Be Allowed.

To those watching, it would all happen in a flash, but to Toffee, it was painfully slow as he’d be moving forward as Moon would be rising up, wand raising…but his hands would be out and he was upon her in moments, the wand yanked and flung away, landing some feet away in the dirt and dust.

The now shocked and gasping Princess Moon struggled for a moment before he’d squeeze her pale young neck in hand, dangling her off the ground. He looked at her with disinterest, which from the wide look and shaking tremor running through her, terrified her more. Inside, he was pleased. She was looked upon with as much curiosity as a new specimen for study.

The type of study that used sharp pins and blades.

“Do you really think I’d let you, for even a moment, use that wand…?” he asked, not really expecting any response as he’d squeeze tighter, looking amused as feeble fists slammed ineffectively against his scaled arm, trying to get free as she’d grunt and gasp, energy wasted from either attempts at freedom or the act of breathing.

“We’ve all seen what your family can do with magic, so did you really think we’d just stand back and let you use it on us **_AGAIN_**!?”

This was loudly shouted, to include his troops in the exchange, whom all cheered and roared in approval, indeed emboldened by their leader’s forethought.

Nodding with approval, he’d begin walking towards the dropped wand, still holding the writhing teen queen firmly in hand, still unable to touch the ground. With his tail, he looped the tip around the wand’s handle and tossed it up to his free hand, holding by the crystal heart in front of Moon’s face.

“The only magic spell I want to see today is one which will grant the wish of every native of this land. To free us from your family and your kind’s continued subjugation and pollution of our land and our lives….”

“W-why not…just use the wand yourself…?”

“Because I don’t **_WANT_** the wand or its magic…I want you to destroy it…”

The princess turned queen stopped her pathetic endeavor to free herself and now looked at the lizard who was slowly strangling the life out of her in confusion, as if seeing for the first time, and he just stared back, as serious as the grave.

“W-What? Why…wh…I-I couldn’t…there’s no way to…”

“Yes there is. It is the very first spell in your family’s book…”

Her eyes widened more so as she’d said quietly

“The…The Whispering Spell…”

“Yes…now…there are two choices here…you can use the spell and destroy the wand, or I can have my army assault the castle…with _you_ as my captive, I know some of your people will not resist us, in fear of losing **_ANOTHER_** queen so shortly…but others will fight…and that _will_ cost lives…lives you can save right now…after all, I’m sure there’s someone in there who you’d rather see unharmed…”

The young girl, and oh how young she looked, so small and frightened, as he could see tears form and spill down her cheeks as something escaped whispering lips.

What was that about a River?

Nevermind, it worked as she’d looked at him and nodded. Teeth bared in triumph, he’d slowly raise the wand up to her lips. So close. It would finally be over, and his people can finally rebuild. They would have a home. They could finally recover and in time, become stronger and united. This could all finally…

A WHIP-CRACK shattered the silence as Toffee’s wrist was suddenly bound by strands of what looked like…purple hair?

“HOLD UP, YA PAIR OF BOOTS WAITING TO BE SKINNED, THAT’S MY QUEEN MOONIE YOU GOT THERE!” crowed a… _questionably_ sane voice before Toffee felt himself yanked back with an audible snap, the surprise of instant pain shooting up his arm, loosening his grip on Moon and The Wand as both he and she were flung forward, away from his army…where he landed at the booted feet of…

“ _Mina_ **_Loveberry_** …” Toffee drawled in disgust as he raised to his feet, armor dusty and besmirched but otherwise intact, while his arm…

He’d look down at his arm, which bent in a way it was never meant to. Frowning, he’d gripped and snapped it into place, pain registering in his mind briefly, but not showing in his face as in moments, he’d flex his fingers as if nothing happened.

“I was hoping I’d finally get to meet the infamous Warrior Mewman…”

“I think you gotcher words all jumbled up there, Lizard Lips. It’s the **_FAMOUS_** Warrior of Mewni…maybe you should learn not to slur when you Hiss like that, but you’re a monster. Talkin’s a new trick for you, innit?” quipped Mina, long purple pony tails snaked out and wrapped around her arms, spinning at her sides, ready to strike as she and Toffee stood off while Moon groaned, far more worse off than the Septarian, a visible hand shaped bruise was forming on her neck, while her crown was some bit away, and she was far from looking regal.

“No, I meant _Infamous_ …one doesn’t set fire to occupied settlements and become hailed as a hero…” he said with a hiss, his eyes narrowing as he’d flex his fingers, claws shining. He needed to finish off Moon, but Mina…Mina was very much a high target amongst the monsters. Wanted dead…never alive.

“Pfffft, it was just a bunch of mud huts and stick shacks fulla monsters, hardly anything gettin ‘infamous’ over... Just Pest Control…” Mina said with a shrug, beaming proud of herself and her actions.

“There were **_CHILDREN_**!”

“Baaaah, just buncha little monsters, who woulda grown up to be BIG monsters, and I just saved us sometime and cut out the middle man!”

A low series of growls rose from behind him and Toffee knew that was _NOT_ something you said in current company.

The Butterflies were hated, but Mina Loveberry was **_LOATHED_**.

From the sound of metal unsheathing and coming footsteps, it was clear his troops were joining in the battle…a number of those ‘little monsters’ had been spawn of some of his most devoted troops…if he could assure it, Mina would live only long enough for every one of those parents to receive their pound of flesh. He’d roll his shoulders, ready to fight.

“It will be a pleasure to see you and the Butterfly family end today...my army will see to that…so I have to thank you and Moon for coming here alone…”

“Oh ya think so, do yah, Hips McGee? **_Who’s to say I came alone_**!?”

Suddenly, multiple rifts of hot blistering flame appeared around her as the Magical High Commission appeared, as did a number of the Royal Guard, fully armored and atop of Warnicorns.

_This_ … **complicates** things further.

He had wanted to attack on his terms, but now things had escalated and now he had to think on his feet, looking from Mina to Moon. Removing her from the board as quickly as possible was imperative.

As is collecting the wand and disposing of it.

Clenching his fingers, wishing for a weapon, but his claws and tail will do…and likely teeth, even if he’d rather not taste the likes of Mina.

If information was correct, she was not well known for her hygiene and bathing habits.

Typical barbarians, these _Mewmans_.

“Ya gonna stare me down, or are ya gonna live up to that rep of yours, reptile?”

Toffee sorted

“Ladies, first…”

_“WHO ARE YOU CALLING A **LADY**!?”_ roared Mina as she’d rush him, her pigtails spinning like blurring purple discs of pain as she’d sling and fling them at Toffee, who’d deftly darted back, leaning to and fro from the intended blows.

“ _COWARD_! **FIGHT ME**!”

Toffee rolled his eyes. It would seem reports were correct, that Mina was as much of the monster blood thirsty psychopath as the stories reported her to be, but that meant she was constantly on the offensive, and though she was known for her power and stamina, she was not the greatest thinker…which was why he’d hoped that while she focused on him, one of his lieutenants…

“ **GENERAL** , **_DROP_**!”

And there it was, and without any effort, dropped dead onto his back, Mina’s eyes following his descent…and not for the mace coming right out of nowhere and clocking HARD on the side of the head, the audible WHA-PANG as it collided with helmet sent Mina flying, twirling with a surprising amount of grace…before a sudden impact with the ground as she’d skid some feet away. Toffee would let out the breath he’d been holding and smirk at the large lizard currently looking down back at him, holding out a hand.

“Need a hand, sir?”

Clasping it, Toffee yanked himself and nodded

“Thank you, Rasticore. I’m glad I was right to count on one of my lieutenants…”

“Of course, sir…wouldn’t want something to happen to you…would be crying shame to ruin looks like yours…” he’d quipped, Toffee feeling a faint blush on his cheeks and cleared his throat

“Not _now_ , **Rast** …I need…”

“Your sickle, _sir_ …” Rasticore would finish as he’d hand the General’s favored weapon to him. Giving the smug Septarian a look of annoyance, he still accepted it and surveyed the battle.

Right now, it was in their favor. They had only rallied some of the Warnicorn trained guards, and of the Magical High Commission, it seemed Omnitraxus Prime was absent, while Lekmet was tending to the wounded soldiers.

So, that’s two of the heaviest of hitters. Which leaves…

“ ** _RHOOOOOOOOOOOMBULUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**!” roared the bizarre mishmash of crystal, Mewman, and snake as the Junior Member of the Magical High Commission flung himself into a crowd of monsters, which were holding their own, though once he gets to using his Crystallonkinesis , that would change, but it seemed that the hot headed Rhombulus was just as eager of a fight as…

“ _Mina_! Where’d she l-”

“ ** _MISS ME, LOVER BOYS_**!?” screeched the indigo haired berserker as she’d leap at them, ponytail whipping at the ready, going for a hard strike down, but Rasticore placed himself up between her and Toffee, both pigtails looping up and around his arm. Mina spun in mid-flight and air-rolled over Rasticore, landing on both feet with a flourish and yanked, a sickening snap as the momentum and speed caused Rasticore’s arm to yank back, popping out of the socket, scaled flesh twisting as the arm was yanked behind him.

“Do I know how to _disarm_ an opponent or **_WHHUAHAHUT_**!?” came a surprised yowl as, painful and dislocated it would appear, Rasticore’s hand clamped over the comparatively stick-like Mina’s arm and with a lurch, spun the ‘useless arm and flung her back over him, slamming her hard on the ground, raising his mace and giving her a good few solid **_whams_** , the first hit was a muffled _whoomp_ …the ones which followed…was rather wet.

“I’VE GOT MINA, GENERAL! GET _MOON_ AND THE _WAND_. **_END THIS_**!” ordered Rasticore.

Toffee, who’d been stunned by the sudden reappearance of the ravenous Mina, snapped to normal and grunted with a nod. He’d correct Rasticore’s presumption to order him…but, he was right and he could bring it up later…for now, the Septarian General ran, eyes darting over the frenzied field of battle, trying to locate… **ah** , _there_ she was.

Moon clearly had yet to truly recover from earlier, barely up from the ground, and being tended to by a young blonde haired boy…wielding a battle axe nearly as big as he was. He seemed to be distracted, looking at the fallen Queen with a look of pain and worry, and then back at any monster coming his way with an intense justified hatred he seen in other creatures, but never in a Mewman…

Must be this ‘ _River’_ she mumbled about. Clearly the feelings were reciprocated.

Mmmm, **_good_**.

Use him to force Moon to cast the Whispering Spell, and that would put an end to this mess.

Now all he needed to find the Wand, and…

His vision would suddenly blur out as sudden flashes of flame would cascade around him, a boiling heat would suddenly cause his scales to glisten with sweat as he’d squint and look around.

“So, _this_ is the great **General** …”

“…The _Lizard_ …”

“… ** _Toffee_** …”

“…We’re not impressed…”

Ah, of course. He’d forgotten one very important member of the Magical High Commission.

“ ** _Hekapoo_** ”

The short, red haired, milky white skinned Mistress of the Dimensional Scissors beamed at him again and again…thanks to her technique of Self-Duplication, he was surrounded by her multi-fold. She was an army all herself, and that was hardly her most dangerous ability.

“Stand aside. Though you have aided in the continued oppression of the native denizens of the land, my quarrel is with the Butterfly Family and the Mewmans…”

“Yeah, right, I’m just going to let you just stroll over and kill **_ANOTHER_** Queen Butterfly. Oh no no, I don’t think so…” spoke up one of the Hekapoo duplicates.

“…Especially not after you’ve derailed our plans for so long…we were _THIS_ close, **_THIS CLOSE_** , to finally achieving peace between monsters and Mewmans!” coninuted another

“ _Peace_? **_PEACE_**? It would’ve been a more prolonged, and painful eradication of all life that doesn’t ‘ _conform’_ to Mewmans. _Long Term Genocide_. **No** , what **_I_** do, I do in the name of peace and sanity!”

 Toffee snarled, his normally controlled and calm manner failing beneath the surge of adrenaline and the rising heat as the circle of Hekapoos closed in, each pulling out a pair of odd short-swords. He gripped his sickle tightly.

This was going to get messy.

“You just _don’t_ get it! The Magical High Commission has been at this for **FAR** too long to let another upstart monster with delusions of grandeur to just step in and try to ruin everything we’ve done…” hissed a Hekapoo to his left.

“Pretty sure the Queen Butterfly at **_that_** time had something to do with **THAT** too…”

“Eclipsa was dealt with, as was her monster husband, and her brat Meteora…and so will **_you_** …!” threatened another Hekapoo, this one behind him.

He frowned.

Meteora?

“Eclipsa’s child was named _Festivia_ , **not** _Meteora_ …!”

The Hekapoos paused and looked at one another, before most all glared at a suddenly sheepish duplicate.

“You’ve **_GOT_** to stop hanging out with Rhombulus!” chided one Hekapoo

“But, well, he _DOES_ have nice pecs…and those hands of his are _really_ good beneath the…” pointed out the guilty party.

“ ** _ENOUGH_**!” roared the other Hekapoos, turning their attentions to the Lizard, whose brow glistened with sweat, but was distracted in thought.

It was quite clear something had been slipped.

_Meteora_.

Eclipsa had a daughter with Globgor?

Then that means...

“You’ve been manipulating the Mewmans…the Butterfly families…it’s all been  ** _you_**!” He snarled, slashing at the Hekapoos, striking one through the crown of horns, the swipe of his sickle snuffing off the flame, and with it, went the Hekapoo.

“ _Please_ , it would be easy for a clearly desperate beast like **yourself** to think that, **_ooooh_** there’s a _conspiracy_. But face it, Monsters and Mewmans. You just **_can’t_** get along. And the Mewmans, are far easier to handle. Far less variance and less… _uniqueness_. Outside the Butterflies. They can be set in order. The monsters…they have to **_go_**. Somewhere other than here, we don’t care, but monsters like you just won’t quit…”

Toffee was hardly listening, his sickle slashed and swished, snuffing out a few more Hekapoos but now they knew his game, dodging his blows, a handful of Hekapoos taunting him with their words, keeping him away from his goal, their blades hitting glancing blows, cutting deep as blood would ooze and drip down his arms and legs, but he would heal in short time.

It was a minor hindrance, but even such hindrances would become grave if more cuts were made in short order.

Death by a thousand cuts.

What a way to go.

But that didn’t matter.

What did matter were his goals.

He might reconsider dispatching the Queen, with this new information, but the Wand **_HAD_** to go. Especially if it was part of the strings which made the Mewmans dance to the Magical High Commission’s tune, like the simple puppets they were.

“We can’t kill you. Glossaryck forbids us from going that far in any case…” harped one Hekapoo

“…and we can’t trust the other Commission members to deal with you _properly_ …” chimed another Hekapoo

A shimmering glint out the corner of his eyes, briefly taking his attention off the remaining Hekapoos to see, The Wand!

Moon had somehow recovered the wand and with River, was being helped to her feet.

He just needed to get over there…he had to chance it.

With one last parting slash, and snuffed out yet another Hekapoo, he’d sprint running as he’d focus all his attention on one goal.

Destroy the Wand. 

That’s all he needed.

Everything around him faded from focus, all there was **Moon** and the _Wand_.

His eyes gleamed.

They were so close.

Ten feet…nine feet…eight feet…

But it was not to be, as in his haste, he’d not notice the pair of Hekapoos, who seemed to step from out of nowhere, bookend either side of the young Moon and River, and click their short swords together… _no_ , not short swords.

Scissors.

**_Dimensional_** Scissors.

And spun around the pair of young royals, scissors cutting and slicing a wormhole and suddenly, they disappeared, the hole quickly shutting behind them.

He’d stop suddenly, looking with open mouthed horror.

No. **_NO_**!

He’d been so close he’d…

“ _Toffee_.”

He’d spun, his surprise knowing no bounds as Moon stood before him, right within reach…but something was again wrong with this picture.

The battle scarred and dirtied Queen stared him down and raised her wand, his eyes centering on the glowing crystalline heart, which throbbed with power.

His spine chilled at being out played by a CHILD…no, that wasn’t fear. He’d cast a glance behind him and saw…

Darkness of Night

Emptiness Of Space

**_Nothingness_**.

But the sun was…and _then_ he saw the ring of flames, oddly green embers flared.

One of Hekapoo’s wormholes.

Then it clicked.

_No_...

“As Queen of Mewni, I hereby **banish** you from this land, _never_ to return. **_My Will Be Done_**!”

From the wand erupted a blast of intense white light which slammed into Toffee’s chest as he was flung into the open portal, watching as the last moments of his life in Mewni seemed to end, extending for eternity as he’d see the cold dead eyes of Moon, such weariness and exhaustion in a girl so young.

He’d see the smiling Hekapoo, fang laden smirk aimed in approval as her hands would rest on the young girl’s shoulders, supporting her.

And behind them, he could see… ** _Rasticore_** , their eyes locking as he could see his lieutenant scream something, causing both Moon and Hekapoo to turn in alarm and shock as he’d raise the mace, the burning yellow eyes of rage and hatred he’d see in his lieutenant’s…his lover’s…eyes.

But, Rasticore’s vengeance was denied as both mace and arm went flying away, a splatter of gore showering both Moon and Hekapoo as River, of all people, swung his battleaxe, disarming Rasticore viciously…and that was the last he saw of them all as the portal finally collapsed, leaving Toffee.

_Cold_.

**Alone**.

**_And Falling…_ **

 

* * *

 

“ ** _Rasticore_** , we need to retreat!” hissed Radgort, the purple crocodilian monster hissed as he’d yank the blooded Septarian along, the battle suddenly over as the monsters, suddenly leader-less, lost their nerve and were quickly retreating, running and dropping weapons behind, only pausing to help the wounded and injured in their escape as well.

“NO! We can’t leave The General…” Rasticore rasped, his heaving frame sagging with exhaustion, as his arms, wet and glistening from being re-grown, could barely lift themselves

“ ** _THE GENERAL’S GONE_**! We can’t do anything for him, we need to GO! He’ll have died for nothing if we-“

“ _HE’S_ **NOT** **_DEAD_**! They…they…”

The massive Septarian glanced back at the armies of Mewni, who were forming a defensive line now that they could organize. He knew he had no chance to attack again. With a slouch, he’d glare and snarl

“Retreat for now…but this **_isn’t_** over…”

Radgort nodded, knowing that deep down, it will _never_ be over for Rasticore.

Not **now**.

They had all lost someone to the Mewmans, and if there was anyone who had lost as much as Toffee, it would be Rasticore. There were so few Septarians left…and now even fewer…and so, with a heavy heart, he helped the exhausted Rasticore flee…

All while, back in the Mewman camp. River, a black eye forming, bruises and scars all over his bared arms and upper body, seeing how he lost most of his coat in battle, panted and let his blood soaked axe drop to his side, panting.

“We… _we did it_! We fought off the Monsters!” He said with a cheer, stumbling forward as Mina appeared, laughing boisterously as she’d clapped him on the back.

“Ya did some mighty good slayin there, short stuff! You gotta set of stones bigger than the rest of ya, I’ll tell ya!” the very uniquely sane Mina complimented, looking far worse for wear, as her face was…well, there were monsters that were half as monstrous as her, as many nearby soldiers visibly paled and winced at the sight of her, one currently emptying his stomach quite violently and loudly. River looked at her in genuine concern…and a tad greener then before.

“Mina, are you…”

“Whaaaaat **_this_**?” She said, indicating the…well, her nose was bent in a way that should render smell utterly nonfunctional, cheek bone clearly shattered so a part of her face sagged like a partially stretched mask and her mouth…her teeth looked like openings of an ancient cave grotto: Jagged, rough, and likely dangerous.

“Nah, dontcha worry about ole Mina Loveberry, wee man. A trip to the Dentist, and I’ll be right as rain!”

“…I…I see…well…”

“ _River_ …” came a quiet but familiar voice behind him, the young royal turned and beamed as he saw Moon, bandaged and still somewhat dirtied, but alive.

“ ** _Moon_**!” He’d suddenly have his arms around her and hugging tightly…so tightly as something audibly clicked as Moon let out a yelp, which made River’s eyes bulge open and quickly let go, holding his hands up “ **Oh**! Oh _Moon_ , I’m so sorry, I just…”

“No…River, it’s okay, really…I just can’t take a Johansen hug right now…thank you though…” She took his hand, squeezing it with a warm smile, her eyes so tired and heavy lidded, but River saw past that, and was lost in those beautiful blue orbs. “You saved my life…from that monster with the mace…you were very brave…”

River flushed, all over, as he’d register the Queen’s compliment as he’d bashfully rubbed the back of his head, stammering

“Oh y- well I, um…Not a problem, _pal_! You can always count on me to back you up, **pal** _oh_ **buddy** _oh_ **_CORN_** , why can’t **_I shut up_** …” he said, covering his face as Moon giggled and gently patted the muttering teen’s back, only to stop and look up as Hekapoo approached her, looking very solemn.

“So… _Hekapoo_ …it would seem the threat is over…isn’t it?”

“Yes…in a way. Without a leader, the monsters are too disorganized to rally another army like that for some time…it is possible that some could be persuaded to return under the banner of the Monster King, but others…”

“Yes…we will need to do something about those who will resist, and continue Toffee’s crusade. We will hunt them down…and they will be **_dealt_** with…”

Hekapoo frowned.

“Your majesty, I don’t think that would…”

“Hekapoo. It is my duty as the Queen to protect my kingdom. I will find the remains of the Monster army, and I will see to it that none of them will ever **_THINK_** to rise up and attack the kingdom ever again. I will do my job, and I will do it _right_ …and when that is accomplished, we will need to settle one other matter…”

Hekapoo blinked and raised a brow.

“And what matter is that…?”

“Toffee **_still_** lives, doesn’t he?”

“Yes. I’m afraid so. As a Septarian, he is extremely durable and from what I’ve been able to piece together, he is extremely intelligent as he is powerful bodily…”

“Then we will need to find him and dispose of him. By **_any_** means…” Her hand gripped her wand tightly, as the memory of a dark deal remained fresh in mind.

“Queen Moon, I can assure you, you will never have to worry about Toffee again. The dimension I left him is so **_far_** out in the backwaters of time and space, he’ll **never** be able to come back. Magic _doesn’t_ exist. The natives of that realm are unable to leave their own dimension, much less reach as far as Mewni. I promise you, My Queen. Where Toffee now resides, is the darkest and furthest depths of the multiverse that could ever exist…”

 

* * *

 

Newfoundland

**Canada**

_North America._

**_Earth._ **

 

In what felt like forever, the infamous General finally stopped falling…

Unfortunately, he did so by hitting the ground.

Pain.

Cold.

Wet.

All these sensations and more overwhelmed his senses in that sudden instance as he’d feel himself roll bodily for sometime more…before coming to a sudden and _VERY_ agonizing stop as his body bent inwards as torso slam against something very hard…he felt the intense crunch and explosion of pain that followed.

A raspy gasp of a moan escaped his lips as he felt warmth for the first time…on his lips, his brushing tongue tasting the metallic tang of blood.

**_His_** blood.

His lungs were on fire with each following breath.

Ribs…broken.

Feels like a puncture.

He’d lay there, in whatever sun forsaken dark dimension that wide-hipped flame bitch dumped him, waiting for death or whatever torture was meant for him…and yet, nothing happened.

The fire in his chest faded, as his body did its job, and knit back torn insides, snapped bone back into place, and with less and less effort, Toffee sat himself up and took in his surroundings. What welcomed him was looked like unspoiled nature; snow capped trees as far as the eyes could see. Was he still in Mewni? This looked like the distant mountain ridges. Perhaps he could still reach his soldiers, regroup and…

And then Toffee looked up at the skies above…and knew with sinking dread.

The stars which twinkled high above…were _not_ the stars of home.

A single moon looked back at him, baleful white glow like the single judging eye of a merciless god.

He’d lost not just the battle.

He’d been taken right out of the war _entirely_.

Claws dug deep into the crunching wet ground as he’d ball into fists, eyes closing tight as he’d hiss angrily.

Damn them. **_Damn them all_**.

They could never have killed him, but this…this was so much worse. To know what will happen to his army, to his people, to…Rasticore. And be unable to do **_NOTHING_**!

_No_ … **NO**.

With breath still left in his body, the will that was Toffee would live on and force his way back.

The war was **_never_** over for him.

Pushing himself up, he’d finally turn his attention to the object which had stopped him oh so roughly and painfully. He’d frown as he’d find it to be a simple wooden sign, very rustic and suffered by countless winters past, judging by the sight of the cracks in the paint and discolored wood.

Upon it read simply

**_“Welcome to Barbeau Bay”_ **

“Barbeau…Bay…” mused Toffee, brushing his claws along his stained armor, trying to clean himself off.

 So there _was_ a settlement nearby.

Of what, he didn’t know, but hopefully civilized beings who did not judge appearances and would be able to peaceably negotiate means of travel and…

_Those_ thoughts would come to abrupt end when the Septarian’s attention snapped to the sound of distant...explosions? No, they were too rapid and precise to be explosions, but the sound they made was hardly peaceful. But then, neither were the sound of howling and screeching.

And regrettably, the source of those sounds was coming down the same path which was to this ‘Barbeau Bay’.

Now, Toffee was a very intelligent being, and knew better to go running towards danger. It was poor strategy and tactics. You would observe from a distance and then make a very informed and careful decision.

However, the lizard had lost just about everything up to that moment: A chance to finally put an end of the corruption and infestation which was the likes of Mewmans and Magic, his soldiers, his…his…

Toffee saw the glint of metal out the side of his eyes, and saw his sickle resting, dirtied but intact, near him. His eyes narrowed back in the shining reflection…and claws flexing, snatched it up by the hilt and began to stride towards the howls and ratatatats which signified clear and present danger.

Toffee was a very intelligent being. But tonight, he needed to kill something…

 

* * *

 

It would not take the striding Septarian very long to reach Barbeau Bay, which appeared to be a fairly small but well-developed fishing village of sorts.

He was impressed by the level of architecture. Not the grand and unnecessarily ornate structures of Mewman Royalty, but not the barely held together mud huts and shacks that came from the ignorant peasant Mewman masses.

No, whatever people made these, were competent carpenters. That was reassuring _AND_ disconcerting at the same time, as the sounds of howling were still somewhat distant from him, but far closer then he’d like.

Keeping to the shadows, Toffee crept around buildings and peeked in through windows and corners. He was surprised to find that this dimension had developed electricity. Toffee’s hopes began to rise that perhaps he’d lucked out and landed in a dimension with a technological means for him to get him home. But, he tempered those hopes, eyeing whatever he could find.

Sure, electrical lamps and lights were in use, but frowned as he eyed what appeared to have been a radio of sorts, old wired-laced speakers, an mini microphone stand at the ready…well, had been at the ready, the fire axe buried deep into the now cracked and burn-etched metal indicated quite clearly it was inoperable.

And so far, he hadn’t found a living soul…but found plenty of evidence there _HAD_ been residents…and likely no longer amongst the living…

Spatters and trails of blood were staining the wood and snowy ground, often pooling around lost limbs or what remains of sapient bodies. There was plenty of bright crimson blood, blood he had long since grown accustomed when spilling it from Mewmans, but there also was streaks and puddles of an oddly luminescent yellow fluid, the smell of which was oddly sweet and… _wrong_. Toffee stayed as far as he could from those fluids, as something primal in him knew that touching any of that was a very unhealthy decision.

He knelt down by the closest ‘intact’ body he could find and frankly, for what appeared to be like a Mewman, a pang of pity rang unexpectedly from within. This being hadn’t been just murdered, but it almost looked like it’d been ripped to shreds…but from how the flesh and entrails split and shredded, it was like it happened from the inside going out…what kind of creature would do _this_?

A low moan would have the lizard freeze in place, his spine tingling as he’d glance back slowly, white knuckle grip on his sickle.

It was one of the Mewman-like creatures, and yet despite never meeting one of these beings alive before, something was very _VERY_ clearly wrong with it.

It lurched slowly, as if it wasn’t used to walking on its own two legs before, arms rising out for Toffee. Its clothes, simple checkered red shirt, some odd blue fabric pants, and durable looking brown boots, were stained and soaked in blood and yet from the sight of some very visible wounds (fatal ones at that, given the sucking chest wound that was so deep, Toffee could swear he could see bone…), the amount of blood on this creature could not be entirely its own, including splotches of that too sweet smelling yellow ichor, which a good deal oozed from that open chest cavity.

Since it was taking its time to reach him, Toffee would slowly turn to face this ghoulish creature proper, Sickle held at the ready. He waited for the creature to say something, but all it did was moan, closing in slowly as if it was trudging through layers of mud.

At this range, Toffee could see… _nothing_ in the creature’s eyes. They were practically opaque, glazed over to the point that one could not see the iris or pupil.

The eyes of the _dead_.

Toffee’s snout curled in disgust. He knew that there were dark magics in the universe, but ones to which could wake the dead and raise them up like the living were the stuff nightmares and stories to scare little hatchlings. And yet here was a very **VERY** dead creature, moving like the mockery of life.

He didn’t bother trying to communicate; he knew he’d never get a response.

He raised the sickle…and with a slash, separated the creature’s head from its shoulders, the head spinning through in the air, mouth still hanging open in a silent groan, falling with a faint _PAFF_ into the snowy ground, while its body took one more step…before it too fell to the ground with a muffled **thump**.

He waited for it to move again, tail swishing behind him as he’d ready for battle…but it failed to rise to his challenge. Or rise at all, really.

A derisive snort, Toffee settled back into a relaxed stance and began to walk further into the village. The smells which assaulted him grew only stronger, as the pungent odor of death in many forms was hard to ignore: the rotting flesh of old fish, the fresh spilt blood, the syrupy yellow ichor and…something else. It was a lot stronger in places.

A burnt odor. Smoky and distinctly chemical.

In his silent ponderings of what it could be, a couple of clinks from below brought his gaze downward, as it would appear his booted feet had kicked up something in their path.

Kneeling down, he’d plucked up a bright brass shell of sorts. Though it had been lying in the snow, it was still warm to the touch. It was a very unique item, and as he brought it close to his eye to examine, that odd smell came even stronger.

_Interesting_.

Gently fishing a finger into the shell, he’d brushed out a faint blackened trace of powder and with a light flick of his tongue, hmmmed.

Traces of carbon, sulfate, and…

Another quick flick of the tongue.

Ah yes, potassium sulfide.

Toffee further adjusted his judgment of the native species and its level of development. They had achieved some level of offensive chemistry of sorts, which would explain the small explosive-like noises he heard earlier but why in such small amounts? And what of these odd shaped shells.

His curiosity continued to bloom and grow with this new evidence…but his survival instincts were much stronger as he noticed that the very small explosive-like noises he heard before…were now coming _MUCH_ closer…and so, he once more merged with the shadows…and watched in quiet observation and study.

The subjects of his observation would not be long in coming as two figures would come in what clearly be seen as urgent haste. They were like the ghoul he dispatched before, but clearly much more alive, if the looks of intense concentration on one and absolute terror on the other were anything to divine by.

Both were wearing body armor of sorts, but unlike the clunking metal monstrosities he’d seen Royal Mewman Guards wear, they clearly allowed a lot more freedom of movement despite being very clearly bulky. There was also less uniformity between them, as both figures wore armor that was similar in make, but definite separately in both the colors as well as minor additions.

Due to the level of possible threat, Toffee’s eyes drifted onto the more focused and determined of the two, who dwarfed the other by a head or so in height and certainly in width. Although that may have been the deep red and distinct yellow armor of his, the colors matching a flag emblem etched on the back of the armor, comprised of a mainly red square, and a few yellow stars. Toffee frowned at that, a rather unwelcomed reminder of home, as Mewmans had a very _unhealthy_ attachment to flags.

The large sapient was wielding what clearly was a weapon, a massive cannon of sorts, as it didn’t take long to figure that the end belching flashing fire was anything else but a weapon. It was just odd to see one so large and yet so easily handled by one solitary being.

And the rate it spewed out round after round…

Toffee watched shimmering shells expel out from the side of the cannon.

_Ah_ , **there** was his answer.

A species which had certainly taken some steps beyond Mewmans, and produced such destructive weapons…if Mewmans had been capable of such ingenuity, instead of relying on the magical gifts of those in power, he and his kind would likely have _little_ chance of gaining any chance of victory…though if **HIS** people had some of these weapons…

Possible scenarios aside, Toffee returned to the now and studied this ‘cannoneer’.

Again, this being was very Mewman like in features, though very unlike Mewmans from further scrutiny.

Beneath the clearly well kempt white hair and facial hair, was the hardened look of a survivor…and a killer. He’d seen enough survivors in his army to recognize someone who’d done a lot to survive…and to _KEEP_ on surviving. The scars etched over their right eye, and cheek marked him as such, but it was those hard eyes of chipped amber. The look it gave to its foe was unwilling to be stopped, or to give up. He saw this in his fellow ‘ _monsters’_ , and **never** in his opponents.

**_This_** …could be problematic.

Fortunately, the cannoneer’s companion was not made of such stern stuff. Wearing a slimmer set of armor of black and yellow, a small tri-color flag of red, black and yellow rested on his back as this soldier seemed extremely frantic and worried, the ‘cannon’ in his hand seemed slimmer, and compact, lacking the heft and weight of his fellow soldier’s weapon, but until he saw it in action, Toffee would remain in place, listening as the young soldier, short brown hair shaved nearly to the skull, which glistened with sweat as darting blue eyes looked everywhere in panic.

At one point, the sneaking Septarian thought he’d been spotted, but no, the young soldier was jumping at shadows as he’d leapt from cover to cover, keeping close to the cannoneer, whose bursts were hitting… **_something_** …as the sound of rounds hitting something hard and meaty, as well as dying screeching.

And _that_ was clearly weighing down on the mind of the young soldier, who pressed a hand to an ear and doing his best not to sputter and stammer, voice marked with a clear accent of sorts.

“Central, this is Shotsy of Strike One! The transponder’s activated but we’ve suffered heavy casualties. Me and Chilong are all that remain of Strike One and we are under constant attack by countless hostiles, **_WHERE_** _IS OUR EVAC!?_ ”

The young soldier would look up to the sky, looking with growing and visible worry as he seemed to be looking for _SOMETHING_ , a sign of the heavens or something…and yet, there did appear to be some sort of discussion that Toffee could only hear a part of as the young soldier screech, showing his youth and inexperience as his voice cracked.

“I KNOW ABOUT THE **_VERDAMMT_** AIRSTRIKE, BUT HOW DO YOU EXPECT US TO GET OUT OF HERE WITHOUT A **_FUCKING_** EVAC, YOU **_FUCKING_** DUMMKOPF!!!”

The hidden General would shake his head in disapproval. Clearly this soldier was not the assigned team leader of this “Strike One” team. Likely one of their aforementioned causalities, which meant the young soldier had unwilling received a battlefield promotion.

He was not handling the pressure with any sort of grace, and looked ready to snap entirely, as he was losing focus on the matter at hand while his silent companion popped a large clip out from his cannon and slammed another in its place, a rather satisfying _CHK-CHIK_ noise clicked, and the raining fire that spewed from the canon resumed.

“THREATEN ME WITH ALL YOU WANT ABOUT **_FUCKING_** _INSUBORDINATION_ , **CENTRAL** , BUT UNLESS THERES AN EVAC, IT DOES YOU VERY LITTLE **_FUCKING_** GOOD! BECAUSE I’D RATHER NOT GET FRIED WITH THE REST OF THESE **_FUCKING_** BUGS!”

Bugs?

They were fighting insects?

The lizard frowned in consideration. A number of soldiers in his army were insectile in nature, but they never stood out amongst said army. Most were used as messengers or suppliers of aid.

So what kind of insect bred in this dimension could pose such a clear threat…?

It was during this thoughtful deliberation that Toffee’s eyes would look past the manic stricken soldier to gaze at a large dangling fish, a very large one with a light blue-grey cast to its scales, black eyes and rows of sharp pointed teeth. It was certainly dead, dangling by its tail and yet…it was quivering and twitching abnormally, not by some ill wind…

“... ** _CENTRAL_**!? ANSWER ME, **_DAMMIT_** …Shit, Zhang, the Comms are down, can y-“began the young soldier when, in a very visceral and violent display of gore, the large dangling fish would explode in a splash of red innards and blood, from which something truly monstrous emerged.

It landed on four leg-like claws, the tips of which skittered and crunched on the snow laden dirt. It was skeletal thin, a deep reflective purple chitinous armored shell covering its form, as sharp if small clawed hands flicked and flecked taloned fingers.

Its face was something carved from nightmares, with open jaws which were laced with need-sharp teeth and pinchers which chattered and screeched, constantly dripping with an oozing substance.

Its empty glowing eyes, eyes filled with no sign of thought but glowed with hunger and bloodlust, were looking directly at the younger soldier, who looked back in absolute terror.

But to the soldier’s credit, not wholly frozen in fear as he’d raise his ‘cannon’ up and with a thunderous _BOOM_ , it struck the monstrous bug, dead center, a good portion of its exoskeleton flaking away, gushing with spitter-spatter of that sickening yellow ichor…but the insect itself?

It stumbled…but remained upright, letting out a furious screech and rushed the soldier. ‘Shotsy’ would pump his cannon, which emitted a _ChkCHk_ noise, ejecting a red shell, capped with brass and readied his cannon again, pulling the trigger…

* **click** *

The young soldier looked at his cannon, pressing the trigger again

* **click** * * **click** *

He was out of shells.

Shotsy flung his empty cannon aside and fished for what appeared to be an even smaller weapon at his hip but by the time he’d unholstered the handheld cannon, it was too late.

As the insectoid hostile was upon him, its small foreclaws reaching out and grabbing the young soldier by the shoulders, lifting him bodily up from the ground as if he weighed nothing, the young soldier jabbering and jibbering in fear as his mind was likely breaking but it didn’t really matter as the creature screeched in victory, tossing its head back..before slamming down with pincers and teeth at the ready and tore at the young Shotsy’s mouth, cheeks tear and jaw forced open as the insectile beast ejected… **something** moist and _WRITHING_ down his throat before tossing the now limp body aside.

Toffee looked on with disgust, and yet, the soldier’s body (with the exception of the ruined face) was more or less intact. Had it been some other beast which had torn the other denizens of this village?

That question would be left to be thought-out as the soldier known as either ‘ _Zhang’_ or ‘ _Chilong’_ , having deigned to finally look from his constant assault of the unseen masses, hissed what Toffee could surmise was some sort of expletive in the soldier’s native tongue as he’d swing the massive cannon of his over just as the hostile insect was turning its attentions towards him…and watched with mixed revulsion and awe as that weapon was truly devastating, blinding fast rounds rushing and shooting from the smoking barrel, each striking true as they went through the insectoid beast, gushes of yellow ‘blood’ spattered and splashed like raging geysers, whittling away at the beast which screeched in defiance, but in the end, as even a couple of its limbs went flying away, it died, falling to a bloodied heap.

The cannoneer finally let go of the trigger as he’d look down at the desecrated form of his fallen comrade, and despite the hardened look of a veteran, the weariness of such constant survival was plainly visible in how the large soldier’s shoulders sank, the cannon looking so heavy.

For once, to a being that so resembled that of his hated enemy, Toffee could sympathize. He’d survived whole scores of units, and lived to tell their tales to others. It was a burden, and one which the Septarian had been willing to bear, but its weight would wear down even an ‘immortal’ like him.

But now was not the time to grieve, as Chilong’s moment of misery was a moment he could not spare as he was suddenly leapt upon, as yet another screeching insectoid beast would leap from behind, as it seems the stream of these creatures that the cannoneer had been so effective in stemming, had finally caught up with him. The cannoneer was knocked down, his weapon falling from his hands, while the slobbering beast would stand triumphant, skitting on claws, jaws snapping, eager to claim another life for whatever purpose such a mindless monster would have.

The General reviewed the information before him. There were two sides, one of a clearly intelligent but overwhelmed Mewman-like natives who had significant understanding of science and technology, and the other, a race of instinct driven insects who seem to be motivated by just senseless slaughter of other species. It was clear to him which side he _NEEDED_ if he were to accomplish **his** goals. As much as it pained him to help anything resembling a Mewman, if it meant getting back to his home and his kind, he knew what needed to be done. 

He’d step free of the shadows and let out a low, challenging hiss, walking with purpose his sickle at the ready. The hiss succeeded in getting both the attention of both fallen cannoneer and his would be killer, as both insect and soldier looked on at this new challenger.

From the soldier’s face, a barely controlled mask of neutral expression shone through, but to a master of observation, Toffee could see the slight widening of those hard amber eyes. He was not expecting something like him. But, from the Chryssalid, Toffee saw what he wanted…Its attention on **_him_**.

It snarled and rushed at Toffee, who smirked nastily as he’d bent back, sickle dragging along the ground, and with a leap forward, blade kicking up sparks, slashed upward just as the grabbing foreclaws of the insect reached for him, both challengers meeting at once…

A moment of eerie silence hung in the air before a screeching cry of pain shot forth from the insect as it howled to the heavens…just as a fine line sickening yellow formed in its front, as it seemed the sickle struck true, bisecting the insect as its screeching cry would turn to a bubbling gurgle as its discolored and luminescent insides spilled forth, splashing onto the snowy ground into a steamy heap as it fell in two, all while the lizard slowly straightened up, looking down at his soaked blade in disgust, shaking it off before those hard yellow eyes looked down at Chilong, stepping over the pile of split insect parts.

The soldier made no move from where he lay, though Toffee could see that the cannoneer was eyeing its fallen weapon. Glancing back at it, the striding Septarian reached out with his tail, looping around it and lifted it with a grunt. It was indeed quite a hefty weapon, but with controlled application of his tail, he sat it down before a very confused looking soldier.

“…I believe _this_ belongs to **you**?” Toffee asked, with clear and polite civility.

The unexpected question seemed to further confuse the cannoneer who looked conflicted to reach for his weapon, even as Toffee’s tail swished away. The stare shared between two very different warriors lingered for a moment more before finally Toffe sighed.

“ _Look_ , I imagine you’re likely experiencing some shock from the battle with these insect creatures, and likely thinking “ _Oh look, another strange **monster**_ ” and considering whether or not I should shoot this one, but I think it would be worth pointing out that I _saved your **life**_ , so a bit of gratitude before you inevitably start shooting me would be at least welcomed…” hissed the Septarian, crossing his arms and scanning the area where most of the cannoneer’s rain of hot fire had been laid down…and one could see it was **_most_** effective.

A significantly battle scarred stretch of village was now pocked with dozens if not hundreds of holes, holes which were filled with blood and gore of many slain insects, some of which were still twitching in the throes of death, as the few remaining neurons in whatever passed for a brain slowly died off.

**_CHK-CHUK_ **

The General sighed and looked up at the starry night sky.

He hated when he was right about other beings, and slowly turned to see the cannoneer had gotten up and was now aiming its reloaded cannon right at Toffee’s chest. At this range, it would certainly hit him. It could possibly overwhelm his body’s natural healing and kill him. He didn’t want to actually _TEST_ that theory, because despite how fast and effect his species healing was, it didn’t quite do much for the pain.

And from the look of the smoking bodies of the exterminated insects, it would hurt. A _Lot_.

“I at least appreciate that you didn’t shoot me in the **_back_** …” Toffee said with a sneer.

“Forgive **_me_** for not wanting to wholly trust an alien’s word after invading my world and letting loose monsters like **_these_** upon _innocents_!” shot back the very armed and ready soldier.

 Toffee raised a brow at that.

“You think I’m with _them_? Do I look like a slobbering beast, thirsting for blo- _Second_ _thought_ , **don’t** answer that…”

“Let’s just say, you’re **_not_** the first lizard man my people have encountered…though, I see you’ve dropped the _subtleties_ of trying to **LOOK** like humans this time…”

“ _Humans_? Is that what you call yourselves? Hmmm. What dimension is this?”

The cannoneer brow furrowed more, looking like he hadn’t expected this rather civil dialogue to continue.

“This is the **_planet_** Earth, though I’m sure _your_ kind has a designation for it, in whatever _your_ plans for it and the people who already live on it…”

“ **Look** , it seems we’re working on false pretenses here, because I’m not one of these ‘ _aliens’_. Frankly, I’ve never seen creatures like these before, although I’ve met **_plenty_** of species who look an awful lot like **YOU** in other dimensions…”

“Why do you keep saying _dimensions_ , and what do you mean like **_my_** species?”

Taking a breath, Toffee considered how to frame the follow response

“ _Look_. You’ve clearly come to the knowledge that there is other life in your neck of the woods…case in point…” he’d turn and point to the cooling corpse of the slashed insect “That…and _like_ them, **_they’re_** not the only other life forms out there…”

“No need to talk to me like I’m **_idiot_** , we’ve seen a number of different species of alien invaders, all working against us… _hence_ why I’m not fully sure you’re not another one of them, possibly even the ones’ **_running_** the whole operation…”

This was new information that Toffee _sorely_ needed. Perhaps he’d jumped the gun and chosen the wrong side. If there were more than one species currently at war with these humans, a war which from the looks of which the humans were steadily **losing** …he really hated working with partial intelligence and data.

“And if that _were_ so, **why** would I kill one of my apparent allies to **_save_** an enemy…?”

“ _Subterfuge_. A tactic to lower one’s guard and allow for an enemy to slip in a sneak attack without injury or loss of further causalities. Especially acting while my people have little to no information on a unit like you, so there is no documented strategy in **_handling_** you...”

Toffee had to admit, that would be a tactic he _could_ use, and it impressed him that something so Mewman-like had come up with it. So odd to see such a creature use its brain as opposed to just trying overwhelming with brawn…then again, that was a decidedly **unsubtle** weapon this soldier used so, brawn _and_ brains.

“ **Look** , we can discuss this further when we’re not on hostile territory. If I recall your comrade’s rather _insightful_ conversation with ‘ ** _Central’_** …”

The cannoneer raised his cannon up once more, pointing at the unflinching lizard with the barrel

_“You hacked the commlinks?!”_

“ ** _No_** , your friend was hardly very quiet on **_his_** end of the conversation. I assume you’re about to unleash some sort of weapon to rain all sorts of fiery hell upon this blighted area, and I’d not rather not be here to experience that first hand. _So_ , since I’ve **saved** **_your_** _life_ , I think it wouldn’t be too much to ask if I go with you…”

“An alien? Coming in with someone from my people **_willingly_**? Now I **know** I’ve gotten a concussion…”

“Again with that word, I am **_NOT_** an alien, I’m just someone from another dimension…whose happened by your dimension at the **_worst_** possible time it seems…look, I can explain everything, but again, I feel it would be best before things…”

A low groan came far too close for comfort as Toffee’s nostrils flared with an intake of breath.

“…Get **_worse_** …”

Both human and Septarian turned to watch as Shotsy, or at least the body of the expired Shotsy, slowly rose up, the milky white eyes of a dead man looking at them as it began to lurch towards them.

“So, do the dead **_not_** stay dead around here, or is this just a new development…?” quipped Toffee, raising his sickle just as the canoneer readied his own weapon.

“It’s the Chryssalids. They use other species as hosts…and _incubators_ …”

As if a more graphic answer was required, the lurching ghoul bent over, clutching its stomach…before collapsing onto the ground…as a claw shot out of the corpse’s left elbow…then the right…then both knees…before the body was torn to bits as a higher pitched if familiar screech as a newborn Chryssalid emerged, its chitinous  exoskeleton still developing, as it was transparent enough to show the inner workings of its body, every organ hard at work…including those hungry pincers and jaws.

“Well…that’s **_appalling_** to watch…” Toffee observed, straight faced.

Unfortunately, things got even worse, as the call of the newborn seemed to be the call to arms as many other screeches in the distance called back, and from their volume, were getting _MUCH_ closer.

 Teeth bared, the cannoneer aimed and blew the newborn insectoid away, snuffing its life out before it could truly begin before hustling in the opposite direction of the screeches…leaving Toffee in the proverbial dust, looking unamused at the sudden exit.

“I guess I’ll just follow _you_ then, shall I?” He’d hiss, guessing he should be grateful that the cannon hadn’t been turned on him.

Still, it appeared the human was going for the edge of town, a vast open clearing looking a touch more welcoming then the infested village they were leaving to burn. Rushing after the retreating soldier, Toffee would easily fill the distance gap between him, having the advantage of physical prowess given unto him by species, as well as far less armor to weigh him down, a proud smirk on his snout as he could hear the huffing and puffing of the human, while he was not even breaking a sweat.

However, his moment of smug pride ended when a screech that suddenly came from a side alley as a Chryssalid came out of nowhere to blindside the human soldier…

Or it **_would_** have if Toffee didn’t shove the cannoneer forward.

“LOOK OUT!”

This succeeded in pushing the human stumbling into the clearing, swinging his cannon back at Toffee…just as the Septarian let out a hiss of pain as a large claw pierced his side.

His armor had certainly seen enough wear and tear today, and luckily, for the insect, it found the chink to break through. Toffee snarled as to bring his free hand up, slamming the claws deep into the neck of the snapping Chrysalid, pushing back to keep it from clamping down, all while trying to raise his sickle and behead the damn thing…only to sense a sudden rush of weakness overtake his body, strength slowly sapping away.

What… _what_ was happening?

Why did he feel so weary…his knees buckled, bending backwards as the weight of the insectoid creature seemed too much for him. He could feel blood pouring out his side, where the claw was firmly dug in and pressing in deeper, but that couldn’t be enough to...poison?

Was this some sort of venom laced on the ‘stringer’ of this beast? Was it the sweet smelling yellow ichor? It had smelt wrong for a reason…

 A powerful one at that, as it seems that even his healing couldn’t fight fast enough. He had to remove the stinger, but to do so he needed to kill the Chryssalid less it lays one of its horrific young within him…and he was **_not_** ready to be a parent quite yet. Hissing, he’d push back as best he can, but it was proving far too much.

The strain of the day’s events, the adrenaline high he’d been coasting on, the constant battles. For one of almost endless stamina, it was just _too_ much, as he lost the battle with mass and gravity and fell onto his back, pinned to the ground as he felt another claw slam into his thigh, the shock of which sent warm scalding pain up his body…followed by the numbing chill of venom overwhelming his nerves…or perhaps it was shock?

Was **_this_** how he was to die?

On another world, far from home.

His mission unfinished.

Killed by an insect, of all things.

Truly fate was a cruel **_bitch._**

His eyelids grew heavy, growing harder to keep open as his breathing grew labored, his sickle dropping with a clink besides him as his left arm fell to his side, the strength to lift just not within him, the right arm failing s well as those dripping and snapping jaws grew closer and closer, glowing empty eyes probing into his…

Only for them to explode in a shower of pus yellow ichor, splashing and soaking Toffee’s face, a weak grimace forming on his lips.

Oh **_SUN_** , he’d gotten some in his **_mouth_**.

A looming shadow fell upon him as the mighty stock of the cannoneer’s weapon slammed into the headless body of the now dead insect, snapping chitin and exoskeleton while making meathy crunches as it rose and slammed again and again…before gloved hands would grip and yank the burrowed claws from Toffee’s side and his thigh.

This succeeded in more of Toffee’s blood to spill forth into the wet snowy ground, but the intense stabs of renewed pain seemed to snap him back to consciousness… _barely_ , panting and gasping as he’d tried to push himself up, only to feel a firm gloved hand push him down.

“Lay down and rest…I’ve _yet_ to see anyone take **that** much Chrysalid venom and live…”

“Human, you’ve never seen something like m-“

The oh-so proud proclamation didn’t even make it passed his lips when Toffee began to cough up blood, staining his teeth and dripping down his lips. Twice in one day…this is was a disturbing habit and one which Toffee hoped _wouldn’t_ continue.

“Ah yes, I’ve never seen anything cough up on themselves as if they were an infant before. Truly, you’re the **_superior_** species…” snarked the cannoneer as he’d look over the wounded Septarian, probing his wounds

“You know, _human_ , I’ve ripped out subordinates tongues for much less offensive words before…” gasped Toffee, hissing when he felt the gloved fingers push into his wounds, reaching to something on his own sides…only to patpat down on the pouches on his belt, and cursing.

“I must’ve lost the medkit when that Chryssalid jumped me. I’m going to need you to hang on, alien, if you still want that ride…”

“For the _last_ **_Sun Blessed_** time, I’m a _SEPTARIAN_ , not one of these **_FUCKING_** bugs! Why do you _SUDDENLY_ care what happens to me?”

“ _Septarian_ , _Lizard_ , whatever the **_fuck_** you are. You need to stop resisting and just settle back, because your body is so saturated with Chrysalid venom, agitating yourself like this is just going to spread it further…and it would be dishonorable of me to leave you to die here because you _foolishly_ saved my life…”

“ ** _Again_** …” added Toffee with a cough and smirk. The human scowled…which slowly turned into a smirk.

“Yes, **_again_**. Perhaps you are telling the truth. But for now, you’re injured and in my care. Now, hopefully help is going to…”

Screeching caused both soldiers to look back to the village, where a rushing wave of hungry death was heading their way, with all the sharp claws and snapping jaws they could ever ‘want’.

“Not the type of ‘ _help’_ you hoping to arrive…?” hissed Toffee as he’d feebly reached out for his sickle, gripping the handle as the cannoneer would pick up his weapon and stand ready to go down fighting…and likely _would_ have..if not a sudden booming **_ROAR_** that shook the very air around them as Toffee looked up…

“No… ** _THAT_** is…” the human said with a big smile, waving frantically up at a massive aircraft of some sort, stationary wings stretched out as it soared passed them, wheels slowly unfolding from beneath its underside as it came in fast and low…and came to a sudden stop behind them.

From behind, a large hatch slowly opened and lowered its self to the ground…as half a dozen soldiers, all wearing similar armors as the cannoneer, came rushing out. Some of which took stations besides Toffee and the cannoneer, wielding heavy canons of their own, or smaller arms, but all of which laid all sorts of shell-based death upon the oncoming masses of the Chryssalids, the flow coming to a halt as the chokepoint was secured as other soldiers tended to the cannoneer, while one soldier raised its weapon and aimed at Toffee’s face.

Toffee’s response?

A wet, derisive snort as he’d just sneer into the barrel of the cannon.

Of course, his death **_would_** be at the hands of something like a Mewman.

That _fucking_ **bitch** , Fate again…

“ ** _WAIT_**!” ordered the original cannoneer as he’d seized the barrel of the weapon and tugged it from Toffee’s face, surprising the Septarian as much as the other human.

“This alien has **_already_** _surrendered_ and has expressed that he will come **_willingly_** back to base. He has information which is **_vital_** to the efforts against the invaders…”

Toffee would raise a hand weakly, adding another surprise to already astonished soldiers in speaking clear English

“I would like the record to note that I did not ‘ ** _surrender’_** …”

“I…” The cannoneer added with no attempts to hide his amusement “…would like to point out that you’re not really in a position to negotiate right now, bleeding to death and severely poisoned…”

“..* **pfft** * Carry on then…” Toffee ‘ ** _surrendered’_** , waving his hand weakly.

He felt gloved hands take hold of his shoulders and lifting him to his feet, carrying him along towards their ‘Evac’, if he remembered Shotsy’s name for it correctly. He’d glance back as he’d see the fire-line of soldiers began to pull back, one of which grabbed the General’s weapon, leaning to one side as it seemed a good deal heavier then it appeared.

This sight made Toffee drunkenly chuckle.

He was clearly not in a state of fit health, as his body was either immensely exhausted or thoroughly numbed due to the venom still swimming in his system. Why not both?

Either way, he was dropped unceremoniously into a seat, where he looked around at many _very_ unfriendly faces.

It didn’t bother him.

He’d practically grew up with such looks and scowls from faces that looked much like these.

Mewmans or Humans, oh similar…and yet there were _clearly_ some differences. Perhaps he could use these humans in his crusade. He’d already swayed one of them to the point of saving his life, how much could it possibly take to win the others over?

Speaking of which, he could see that very human who helped him approaching, looking not angry but upset over something as he held a small device in his hand. It wasn’t a gun, but he raised it up as a faint humming noise began to whirr to life, a faint spark of electricity seemed to surge to life.

**_Ah_**. It was going to be like _that_?

A deep sigh and a look of acceptance, Toffee looked forward…and for the first time, noticed the distinct emblem that was on the chest piece of the cannoneer’s armor, of a distinct X shape over a partial globe and three stars.

“ _Vigilo Confido_ …What does that mean…?”

_“I Am Watchful. I Am Relied Upon”_

“…Good To Know…” Toffee mused as he’d closed his eyes as the crackling electrical hum grew louder…

*BZZZZZZZZZZZZT*

…And once more, gave into the darkness…

 

* * *

 

 The self-proclaimed Septarian collapsed into an unconscious heap as Shaojie ‘Chilong’ Zhang lowered the Arc Thrower, and pressed a finger to his comm.-link.

“ ** _Central_** , this is _Chilong_ ”

“ _Reading you loud and clear, Zhang. Status_?”replied Central

“After Mission Report:  Operation Banished Serpent is…”

The Heavy Class soldier braced himself as the shock-wave impact of heavy airstrikes were being carried out as they return to base.

“…now complete. Heavy causalities on both sides…there were no civilians left to be saved…” Zhang said, voice heavy with guilt.

He had lost men before, in his shady past. It came with the territory and his ‘ _job’_. But since joining the fight against the invaders, losing people was beginning to wear him down…and these had been the worst losses yet.

“… _Zhang_.” Came a new voice through the comm-link.

Zhang’s eyes widened and stood immediately to attention.

“ ** _Commander_** , I…”

“ _You did your best, Zhang. I know you always do, and you were working with very limited intel, so little your team went in blind. The fact any of you were able to survive is nothing short of a miracle, and we’ve successfully wiped out the nesting ground. The world can sleep easier in the knowledge that they’re being kept safe from the monsters and aliens…your people did good. They **WILL** be remembered…_ ”

Zhang nodded, staring off into the distance

“… _Now, about the unexpected guest you’re bringing back to us_ …?”

“Ah, yes. The **_Septarian_** ”

“ _Normally we wait to decide on the names of the captives we collect once we’ve better studied them, Zhang_ …”

“Of course sir, but this is what he called himself, sir…”

“… ** _Repeat_** _that Zhang, the captive alien **TOLD** you…telepathically_?”

“No, verbally, sir. He spoke English.”

_“… **HE** spoke in **English**?”_

“Yes, he did, sir. At least I think he’s a he. It’s all very confusing sir, but my gut is telling me that he isn’t a threat. At least, not directly. He is a skilled fighter; he fought one on one against a Chryssalid with a sickle sir, and killed it in one stroke!”

_“… **Repeat** that, when you say **sickle** , you mean…”_

“The farming tool, yes sir.”

_“…and he **willing** came to you?”_

“Yessir, which is why I wasn’t exactly sure it was wise for me to use the Arc Thrower as **_Central_** advised…”

_“Mmmm, it will likely sour some opinions about us when he wakes, but on the off chance it’s a ruse, we can’t allow any knowledge of where our base is located to fall into enemy hands…human **or** alien…”_

“Of course, that was **_Central’s_** reasoning as well. I may not agree with it, as I do owe my life to the _Septarian_ , and my honor _demands_ I respect that debt…”

_“Yes, of course, Zhang, and that information is being taken into consideration, but until we know that this… **visitor** …isn’t a part o the invasion force, as well as a participant in a new tactic against us, we must consider **all** precautions. Now, anything left to report?”_

“ _No_ Commander.”

_“Very well. Sit tight and keep an eye on our guest…see you when you return. **Commander** out.”_

Zhang sighed as the comm-link disconnected, glancing over as the Septarian, still unconscious, was being fastened with cuffs and bindings.

 He shook his head in dismay. The guilt of betraying the trust in someone who saved his life _TWICE_ tonight was beginning to weigh on Zhang even more so then the losses of fellow operatives…

It was funny really, given before the whole invasion; he’d cultivated a professional career of being heartless, a stone cold killer. Shaking his head, he dropped into a free seat and settled in, as it was going to be a long trip ‘ _home’_.

Perhaps he was just going soft in his old age…or he was just getting too old for this **_shit_** …


	2. After Action Report : Reptilian

Central Officer John Bradford entered the Situation Room with but a whisper of noise as the automatic doors activated when…

“Bradford. **Excellent**. On time as always…” mused the sole occupant in the room, their outline cloaked in shadow, masked only by both lights of the mingling dim green glow of the massive computer screen that took up one wall as well as the ghostly blue of the hovering holo-globe that sat dead center of the room.

The solitary figure remained focused on the data constantly streaming as news updates throughout the world were collected and filed away. Their arms folded behind their back, head imperceptivity moving as to study every inch of footage and photos on display.

The matter of fact tone and their back being still turned from him made Bradford freeze in mid-step. He was not a very loud man, not by nature. He was well-trained and disciplined certainly; many years of military training does that to you, and **_yet_** here before he could announce himself, he would be caught flat footed **every** _time_. Was he _that_ predictable?

“Hello, Commander…I received your request for situation reports a few moment ago. I apologize for the delay as I was finishing the after action report with Zhang…”

Once more, Bradford came to an abrupt halt when The Commander’s hand was raised to halt the younger officer in verbal place, turning to face him at last, piercing eyes falling on the other officer.

“I know why you might be delayed, Bradford, but please, save those details for the arrival of Shen and the good Doctor…all heads will be required as there are matters to be discussed and prepared…both minor and definitely major ones.”

Bradford, internally cursing himself out for the slipup, gave a sharp nod, only for the Commander to begin chuckling, looking back, the flash of a white smile appearing quite hauntingly in the ethereal lights.

“Don’t punish yourself too hard, Bradford. I admire your tenacity and punctuality…would be nice to see it rub off on Vahlen and…”

The automatic doors opened once more as Chief Engineering Officer Raymond Shen entered, brushing his glistening, wrinkled brow with a handkerchief.

“Apologies, Commander. I only just received your request now. It would appear I was much deeper in my perusal of Foundry projects then I thought…”

“Apologies are not necessary, Shen. Like Bradford here, you have your duties, and I’m quite pleased to hear that you both are dedicated to the cause in your own ways. I thank you for getting here as soon as you could, though…and you’re still here before Vahlen, of course.”

The elder Taiwanese man would give a weak chuckle as he’d tuck his handkerchief into a pocket.

“Ah yes, The Doctor would be rather... ** _dedicated_** …to her particular duties as well…”

The Commander’s smile slipped a touch as he detected a tone he was now very familiar with, especially whenever Shen discussed Vahlen…or vice versa.

“How the doctor handles her department is within the doctrine parameters of our organization, Shen. I know you and Bradford have expressed displeasure and views on her experiments, but her research is **_VITAL_** to the continued effort against our unwelcomed ‘ _guests’_ …so please, **mind** your _tone_ …”

“I can defend myself, Commander, thank you very much…” the aforementioned Doctor crisply corrected, as she would step through the door, one hand pressing upon the door keypad, locking it behind her with an audible series of clicks and locks, the other arm held her personal data pad, something that was never seen far from her reach. She locked eyes with Shen and Bradford before looking to their superior officer.

“Speaking of guests, our newest ‘ _collected’_ occupant’s vitals are improving at an unusually high rate yet they remain comatose…”

“Must be quite annoying you can’t provide them with your ‘ **VIP’** treatment quite yet, **_eh_** _Doctor_?” quipped Bradford, which earned him a withering gaze from Vahlen, only for all eyes to be back on the Commander as he’d audibly clear his throat.

“I repeat. **Mind** your _tones_. You are **_ALL_** on the same side, remember? Now, we will be discussing our newest ‘ _guest’_ eventually, but we have other matters to attend to. So, let us begin… _Bradford_?”

Nodding, the younger officer walked over to the massive wall-screen, picking up a small remote from the center table and aimed it, as the ever present news scrolls and data streams faded to focus on the global map, the continents shown in greater detail, shades of green, yellow and red suddenly blossomed all over the world.

“As you can see, North America and Asia are experiencing little to no rise in public panic or increased alien sightings, thankfully due to the rapid response we’d be able to provide in air defense and detection. Europe, as a whole and for the most part, has been lowered to manageable moderate level with the introduction of the improved stealth satellites that Shen and the engineering staff had been tinkering with in the Foundry…”

“Which we’ll have three more ready for activation and deployment in less than two weeks time, Commander…” Shen added, a wan smile on his lips, a touch proud of the hard work his people had been putting in and the spoils of their labors finally coming to fruition was something to be proud of, surely.

The Commander nodded, looking to Bradford, smiling lightly as well as he followed with…

“…Which is certainly good news, as we’ll need to deploy those very soon, as South Africa and Egypt are experiencing high levels of public panic and mass confusion as abductions and sightings have increased significantly in those regions, despite the stabilized and relatively green levels of control still held within Nigeria….”

And indeed, all could see from the angry buzzing shade of orange haze that hung over most of the African continent stood out quite brazenly, contrasting with the southern third of the continent, which remained well in the green…though, there **_WAS_** a reason for that.

“And it would be rather obvious to send the third to Brazil, hmmm?” Vahlen said while pointing at the screen, as despite the buzzing bee’s nest that was Africa, South America was somehow far worse off.

The first major casualty in the war was Argentina.

The aliens had been unusually focused on this continent, as the level of abductions and sightings had been the highest in any country, and though they’d done their best to battle the threat, Argentina pulled its support from the XCOM project…and Brazil appeared to be not too far behind…and if the aliens gained a foothold on an entire continent, it would only guarantee even longer and bloodier war…that even now, humanity was beginning to feel the strain…

“Then its settled, as soon as the satellites are complete, they will be deployed to South Africa, Egypt, and Brazil…we’ll have to maintain our current patterns to insure stability continues until the rest of the world can be safely monitored…speaking of which, Bradford, how are the Hangars?”

“We’re still at two fully fueled and armed Raven-Class Interceptors readied for all five continent zones each, sir. I would advise having four, but…”

“We don’t have the resources for that, yes…a problem which is proving problematic to our efforts… _isn’t it_ , Shen?”

The elder Engineer sighed and removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes.

“Unfortunately, **_yes_** , it is…we’re doing what we can, but until we can either expand our workshops as well as hire on more engineers, there’s only so much we can construct...”

“And we are already dangerously close to expending our whole budget for the current period, so I can’t approve expansions at the moment, but please know that you and your teams efforts are not unappreciated…I’ll do what I can when it comes to finding more engineers.” The Commander pledged.

“Thank you Commander, whatever you can get or spare on either front is appreciated. On happier news, one of our special projects will be, within a week’s time, complete…” Shen assured, holding out his hand as Bradford would hand off the remote as the Engineer took over, aiming the remote to the Holo-Globe, which would suddenly shift and change to a three dimensional image of what looked to be an elaborate and layered blue-print schematic of…

“…The unmanned combat drone you proposed?” Bradford asked, rubbing his chin as he’d walk around, taking in the whole of the holographic image.

“Indeed. The Super Heavy Infantry Vehicle or the **_S.H.I.V._** as the folks back in the foundry have named it. It’s a advanced weapons platform that can be sent in place of a soldier. It uses a Minigun weapons configuration, but with its base design in place, there are those, me included, are already considering possibilities of further improvement and upgrades to its offensive and defensive capabilities. At this time though, it is significantly durable, its armor providing plenty of defense against enemy fire. And its mechanical nature provides a multitude of immunities to some of the more… ** _bizarre_** ways of combat the enemy is capable of…if only we could’ve completed this sooner, I’m sure it would’ve helped in the Newfoundland incident…” Shen hypothesized out loud, looking at the three dimensional, see-through rendition of his hard work…only to snap out of it when it would suddenly change to a screeching Cryssalid, making the older Engineer stumble back with a gasp as the drooling drone would click and chitter mandibles. Shen would stare open mouthed in horror before he’d look to Bradford and Vahlen.

The Doctor’s reaction was no surprise to the older Engineer. She looked at the Chryssalid with such a look of scrutiny and interest…it made Shen shiver as he could only guess what she was thinking. He had to wonder, what was scarier, the Chryssalid or Vahlen with a scalpel. Bradford meanwhile, was looking at Shen, with a distinct look of… _displeasure_? What had he…

It was only when he looked to the Commander did he realize the great faux pas of his. The massive wall screen no longer displayed the great global landscape, instead now was a series of still images of what **_HAD_** been Barbeau Bay, inter-spliced with the recorded camera feeds from on-site soldiers. They had no idea what had been waiting for them…and one by one, the recording feeds went out, capturing those final horrifying moments before many limbed and snapping jawed death was upon them…

“Commander, I…I’m _sorry_ , what I said was in incredibly poor taste, Zhang and his people did their best with little intel a-“

The Commander’s hand rose up, silencing the sputtering Engineer, who with great shame looked down, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. The Commander watched, eyes locked to ever single frame and photo.

It _wasn’t_ Shen’s fault.

It _wasn’t_ Zhang’s or _any_ of his people.

It was **_His_** Fault.

XCOM was **_His_** responsibility, the safety of Earth and its people, **_HIS_** people, was **_His_** responsibility. The continued alien threat was something that the human race was not ready to face and even with all the resources, the best of the best that the world could give, and they were barely keeping these monsters back, barely keeping afloat…

It was war. You couldn’t avoid causalities in a war, and this was no different from any war in history. If anything, it truly represented a _WORLD_ war, a war between two very different worlds and one war which the whole of humanity could **_NOT_** afford to lose.

The Commander’s hands squeezed tightly, knuckles whitening as his fingers dug deep into his palms. He gazed upon many mutilated and butchered bodies.

Men. Women. **_Children_**.

Mindless slaughter, nothing left behind except the monstrous beasts which briefly wore the bodies of their prey like suits, incubating before bursting forth from their gruesome cocoons. These creatures in particular, had now been wiped out, purged by the repeated bombings, wiping out the whole village right off the map, but those which had brought this… _plague_ upon his world remained at large and they needed to **_PAY_**.

 _Whatever_ in his power, _whatever_ the cost, he would see them **_BURN_** for this.

“…Commander?... _Sir_?”

The Commander took a deep breath through his nostrils before exhaling and turning to Bradford, his face neutral when he replied to the younger officer.

“What is the ‘ _official’_ story being provided concerning Barbeau Bay…?”

Worried for his superior, but detecting his tone, Bradford provided as asked

“…The local government officials and channels are currently informing news agencies that what happened in Barbeau Bay was a horrific tragedy brought on by the collision of an out of control fishing vessel, resulting in massive explosion as the ship’s entire fuel supply was ignited, wiping the entire fishing village off the map…so far, there have been no discrepancies or contradictions to this story made by any party, and with the accounted survivors being within our ranks as well as custody, that will remain the official story, sir…so, no links have been made to the alien threat…”

“What was the whole purpose of this…this _nightmare_? What are the aliens hoping to gain from such a senseless laughter?” Shen asked, adjusting his glasses as he’d been intent on looking at the screen, as an excuse to avoid anyone else’s gaze.

“I believe it might not have been the aliens’ intent for this to happen…at least, not entirely…” proposed Vahlen as she’d look over her data pad, selecting an item while syncing with the massive wall screen, as a single clip of looping archived footage, timed at the moments prior to the activation of the shipwrecked fishing vessel’s transponder to signal for the airstrike, as multiple points of view indicated the clear source of the immense Chryssalid population: a massive if decomposing whale carcass, serving as a breeding hive, even then showing a newborn Chryssalid emerging from the gore stricken flesh of the dead marine mammal.

“It would seem that the Chryssalids can implant their embryos in other forms of Terrestrial life, the greater the mass, the greater the population of Chryssalids can be hatched…whether this was an intentional experiment made by the aliens or perhaps one rogue Chryssalid that had gotten free, shows the horrifying capabilities of this species. Its very nature could radically alter Earth’s ecosystem. The damage alone to the world’s oceans is nightmarish in scope. Though this specific threat is over, until the aliens can be dealt with, this remains one out of **_many_** apocalyptic scenarios  we may face, Commander…” observed Vahlen, not having to see the varying looks of dawning horror form on Bradford and Shen’s faces, as they would likely be similar to her own.

The Commander however, just scrutinized the information before him, his expression glacial and hard.

“Doctor, I’m _well_ aware of the severity of the situation…I don’t **need** _reminders_ , I **_need_** options and solutions so to ensure our world and its people live to see another day, much less survive this invasion...what is the current status of your experiments with the recovered X-Ray from the preceding operation prior to Barbeau Bay. I believe you and your team have already assigned an official designation?”

“ ** _Muton_** , sir. We’re calling it the **_Muton_** …” Replied Vahlen, cheeks flushed as she felt foolish for stating the obvious to the Commander, and to quickly rectify her own mistakes, she’d rapidly typed upon the data pad of hers, as the screens shifted once more, as multiple scanned images of a large biped creature, measured at over 2 meters tall and nearly just as wide, it was covered head to toe in bulky deep green and black powered armor, baleful yellow lights show and flickered along the shoulders and around the collar, bringing attention to the pupiless eyes surrounded by raw pinkened flesh, which on a close examining zoom would show a severe level of poorly healed medical scarring. The lower part of its face was covered by a large gas-mask like configuration, sealed in as part of the powered armor. The overall combination of the creature’s natural frame as well as the addition of its armor made for a truly imposing opponent.

“Some of the soldiers who’ve encountered these new aliens on the field were the ones who initially coined the term, though I’ve yet had a chance to inquire _WHY_ , it still felt fitting to call them as such for the purposes of our experiments and interrogations with the captive…”

The window opened, overlaying a video clip over the images and data concerning the Muton, revealing it to be an earlier recording showing Vahlen and her team as they were gathered within the Alien Containment Facility, where many of the live captured X-rays had been taken and stored. They had gained much of in terms of their enemies’ capabilities, strengths, weaknesses, motives. All received through the liberal use of…very _questionable_ methods. The interrogations of the magnitude used would likely raise much of an uproar from human rights groups, but under the circumstances where the very human race’s continued existence **_depended_** on the information gained through such methods, Vahlen and her people were more then **willing**. After all, would their enemy extend as much considerations and mercies upon the people _THEY_ have collected?

As the footage rolled, its focus would befall the current occupant of a large sealed container, as the Muton within was pacing back and forth, eyeing the scientists in a manner which seemed one part caged animal eyeing prey outside its bars, and another part a boxer just _WAITING_ for the bell to ring as to wail many blows upon its opponent.

It was so intent-filled and focused on Vahlen and her people, it didn’t notice the two robotic arms emerging from the sides of the container, a faint hum of electricity and sound would thrum louder and louder, finally getting the attention of the Muton, whom slammed a massive meaty fist, knocking one of the arms away before it finally made a run for the walls of its containment unit…and there was quite a few gasps when its fist slammed onto the specialty layered glass…and many visible _cracks_ began to form within just a **single** blow.

It was fortunate (for the researches, **_not_** for the Muton) that it was as far as it got, as it readied to land blow after blow to gurantee its freedom, the two ‘ _extraction’_ limbs were upon it, sparks of electricity bathing the roaring Muton in what could only be described as immense pain, though its roars were drowned out by both the sealed container as well as the sonic barrage which was now pulverizing its body and mind, as the container was locked down as internal security measures kicked in, having detected the fragmentation of the container, as two interlocking metal shields locked down, sealing the unit, allowing but a moment of very intense bright flashing light before locking with a booming slam.

“Does it always have to be such a **dramatic** affair when your extraction protocols activate like that, _Doctor_?” Bradford quipped, a small smirk on his lips as he’d glance to the good Doctor, whom snorted but with dark amusement, countered

“Well, given how much we’ve been able to procure from the previous specimens, a little _flair_ isn’t much to be asked, is it **Bradford**?”

“And what of this particular session, Doctor?  What’s been gained so far? It’s proven to be so far your longest interrogation with one of the contained X-Rays…” The Commander resumed his command of the conversation, which certainly sobered both Bradford and Vahlen, the former clearing his throat as his smirk vanished while the Doctor cleared her throat as the video window closed, streams of verbal data now danced as she’d continue

“That would be due to the immense levels of aggression we’ve been encountering with the Muton, we can certainly confirm that this species is the next level to the alien threat’s strategy. Their great size, level of weaponry and armor, as well as their battle tactics markedly similar to our own soldiers, these are likely the unknown hierarchy’s front line combatants. Unlike the Sectoids, who’ve proven to be practically useless in battle if not for their great psionic capabilities, The Mutons appear to be literally built for combat. It has required significant increases to drug implementations to counteract the unusual high levels of adrenalin that runs through the Mutons body, as well as other… _encouragements_ …we have hit a few obstacles with this one, Commander, but with an estimate of three days, we’ll have gleaned just about everything from this specimen…”

“I _see_ , but is there anything that could be shared as of right now…?”

“In fact, yes. Despite its great size, strength and durability, we’ve found that the Mutons are far less intelligent then either the Sectoids or The Thin Men. Whereas the aforementioned had been interrogated and provided plenty of details like one could achieve via captured scientists or experienced field agents, The Muton has proved to be more like, for all intents and purposes, like a bio-organic machine. It’s pre-programmed with all the necessary information it needs to use its weapons as well as employ military tactics. That became extremely clear with how ingrained it was, akin to Terrestrial soldiers orders and methods drilled into their heads through constant and exhaustive training. We are reaching close to the limits of this knowledge, and I will of course submit the full report of our findings in the _Project_ : **_Tempest_** report, which when complete, I feel Shen here will be pleased to look, given the expansive amount of data we’ve compiled concerning the plasma weaponry used by the aliens…”

The older Engineer would be stroking his chin, nodding at some of the highlighted points shown in the displayed interrogation log, snowy white brows knotting in thought.

“It would go in a long way of advancing our own developments in weapons and defense research, especially in our work towards laser based weaponry projects, while also providing a foothold in the creation of our own plasma based weapons…this will give us a serious edge on leveling the playing field with the enemy, Commander…” assured the elder Engineer, sharing an appreciative nod to Valhen’s consideration to his department and his people. The Commander would give an approving nod of his own.

“Good, _good_ , **_excellent_** work Doctor. Though, once the interrogation is complete, I imagine your next step would be to…”

“ _Dig_ even deeper?” Bradford finished, the young officer seemed unable to keep his cracks to himself, but given the glint in Valhen’s eye which made Bradford visibly pale, The Commander chose not to correct him this time, instead letting the Doctor carry on.

“ **Yes** , _Bradford_ , you would in fact be **_correct_**. Once the subject has _expired_ , much like all the previous collected alien subjects, I will be engaging in a full autopsy of the specimen, to collect further data, hopefully expanding even further our collective knowledge of the Muton species, as well as the motives of their mysterious leaders. I’ve already made a few theories concerning some of the unusually high level of scarring found on the creature’s body. It would seem to me that the Muton may have been put through significant levels of intensive surgery and genetic engineering, even more so then the evidence we’d found in the Sectoid’s biomedical implants or the Thin Man’s altered physiology…the wealth of information that could greatly benefit the Gene Modifications proposal I sent to you concerning…”

“Doctor, I appreciate your enthusiasm concerning that proposal and it has a lot of merit and possibilities, much like that of Shen’s own proposal of concerning Cybernetic applications, but we’re unfortunately unable to provide what both of you are requesting right now, our resources are extremely limited as it is, so the facilities you both require to carry out such modifications and improvements are impossible to even excavate and expand our base for, much less build them. Not to mention the matter of one **PARTICULAR** element that both of your ventures would require to work is significantly _finite_ , as this **_MELD_** can only be acquired during excursions and combat conditions against the invaders. We’ve been lucky to get what we have so far, so until we’ve procured a sufficient amount to perhaps use as basis of our own production and recreation, or an excess amount somehow just falls into our collective laps, I must once more make it clear to you both, your proposals are for the moment, denied.”

The Commander’s denial had not surprised either Valhen or Shen as this had been a battle the both of them had been fighting him on for some time, and even Bradford had come to their aid, as studying possibilities of both projects would provide significant boons to X-Com as a whole, from the Gene Mods theoretically providing them with soldiers capable of going toe to toe with the aliens best, to the Cyber Suits which could bolster the significantly shrunken numbers in their forces by providing disabled soldiers and vets with new limbs to allow them to join the fight. And The Commander made it clear that yes, these would be extremely beneficial; but unfortunately, they neither had enough resources of neither funding nor time to put into those projects right now. 

He wished it _wasn’t_ so, especially as both Valhen and Shen were doing their best to provide as much to the war effort, bringing with them the wealth of their combined knowledge and expertise, and with such minds, they could be key to turning the tide…it was just **_unfortunate_** that _they_ weren’t the ones who in the end, controlled X-Com’s fate…

The tense silence that followed was deafening, as the Commander’s gaze would look between Shen and Vahlen, neither affording him the courtesy back, as Shen would be polishing his glasses once more while Vahlen’s eyes were now onto her datapad. The only one who bothered to share a look was Bradford, who was also sparing a moment to look between either department heads…only to look to the Commander with a silent shrug and a resigned look. With sigh, The Commander once more took the lead…

“Now, Doctor, what of our newest guest…the self-designated **_Septarian_**?”

Clearly grateful for the change in subject, Vahlen once more tapped her fingers upon her data pad as the whole screen shifted to a live feed to the Alien Containment Facility, focusing on a currently occupied cell, the primary cell wall locked and sealed as an obscured figure was currently…

“Still unconscious, I’m afraid…” sniffed Vahlen, the disappointment in her voice could hardly be overlooked, as it helped bring a smile to the men in the room, knowing how eager the good Doctor was when she got a new specimen to toy with, and one which voluntarily gave itself to them? The Doctor had been practically vibrating with all the questions that sprang forth from her mind as soon as the mission updates came from Zhang.

Unfortunately, it had been agreed that the collected X-Ray would still need to be stunned for matters of security. Whether it spoke the truth or not it had no allegiance to the alien threat as a whole, it would not be wise to leave a possible leak to their base’s location. Last thing they need was the events of Barbeau Bay to be recreated at their front door.

“ ** _Still_**?” Bradford blinked, looking at the screen, frowning at the still form currently laid out unmoving in the center of the containment cell “Normally we’ve seen captured X-Rays resume consciousness within a few hours…sooner with the Mutons…”

Vahlen’s look of annoyance at Bradford’s interruption deepened as she hated what she’d say next.

“Yes, you would be correct, Central…” She’d acquiesce, if quickly, ignoring the rather surprised smile on the younger officer’s face at her complimenting words “… ** _BUT_** …then most of the X-Rays in the past hadn’t been damaged as significantly as this ‘ ** _Septarian’_** , nor had they been injected with any of the Chrysalid’s venom, much less the amount that it took, if Zhang’s accounts and footage are to be believed. If it were one of _our_ men…”

“…They would be dead…or **_worse_** …” The Commander continued, with cold finality, eyes narrowing as his attention were on their still stunned subject.

“ _Yes_ , that is so. **So** , with this all in mind, I believe that this Septarian is currently in a recuperative coma, as it is retaining a stronger and healthier heart rate since being brought to the labs, and the in-cell cameras were able to zoom in to observe the severe wounds it had received during the fighting with the Chrysalids and…there weren’t any.”

Pause, with looks of confusion shared between the two officers and  the head engineer before the Doctor was pressed for clarification.

“There weren’t any **_what_** , Dr.Vahlehn?”

“ **Wounds** , _Injuries_ , **_Scars_**! From the looks of the creature’s armor, which has clearly seen better days, the wounds that should be there based on the size of gashes and gouges would not **only** be crippling but also **_FATAL_** to a human being, even without the addition of Chrysalid venom. Bu there’s nothing to be found, not even an old scar. Just unblemished if odd colored scaled flesh!  Which means one of two things, one which is Zhang made the whole thing up…”

“… _which_ since there was clear camera footage from his armor cam’s…he **_wasn’t_** …” Bradford countered again, the smile on his face going full smug as the brief scowl from Vahlen did nothing to deflect his point.

“… ** _which_** means that the second option is, this creature has regenerative capabilities we’ve never seen before, not even in any of the other X-Ray we’ve encountered. It would be the only reason the immense amount of venom didn’t kill the creature instantly, much less survive long enough for the body to fight the invading toxin…which would explain its continued unconsciousness. It might still be purging the infection from its systems…”

“Quite the hypothesis, Doctor…” Shen added, looking at the prone prisoner with a look of… _sympathy_? He’d seen what the venom does to humans, and it was **_not_** a pleasant sight. So, seeing another creature, something so inhuman but still humanoid, placed in the same circumstances…the older engineer was at most, **conflicted**.

“Well, it’s a theory that I feel explains everything that I can collect from the specimen while they are currently in this state, including its brainwaves…” The Doctor added with the additional presence of the monitoring vital readings from the containment cell, showing indeed a steady heart beat and pulse…but when switched to the neural scans. It was rather unnerving how the scans revealed a brain not too dissimilar from a human’s, but with previous records of Sectoids and Thin Men, it wasn’t as impossible to conceive as it had been t the very beginning of X-Com.

But, the recorded activity shown before them was hard to overlook. Everyone but Vahlen seemed to take this very seriously, eyes widening as Bradford’s fingers snapped up to press into his ear pierce, his first instinct to request a full site lockdown, seeing the activity of mental contact…to which a hand suddenly gripped his arm. The Commander, frowning at the screen, shook his head in the negative as the younger officer lowered his hand, not liking the decision to delay any precautions that could be put into place, but he wasn’t the one running this show.

“ _Doctor_ …what are we looking at, here…?” inquired the Commander, carefully.

“Not what I assume you all think it is. As far as I can tell, the mental gifts we’ve seen Sectoids use is not to be found, which as you can see by its scans, as the creature isn’t giving off the bizarre waves of what we’ve called ‘ _psionic energy_ ’ we’ve recorded from the Sectoid studies and interrogations…”

A few taps of her datapad, and two more neural reading windows opened up, forming a line of three. The first window showcased the **_Septarians_** current brainwaves, while the other two…

“The one in the middle is the archived readings of the Sectoid, during which it first woke up in its cell and attempted to use its psionic based gifts to escape…please note the bizarre spike of energy that seems to spring forth from the Sectoid’s unusually sized and hyper active limbic system…likely a result of genetic engineering as well as the cranial implants found within the Sectoid’s skull to enhance what may have been a natural if weak gift in the Sectoid species. That sort of activity is not present in **_THIS_** creature’s readings or brain…but if you would look to the final screen…you may recognize something…”

It took the rest of the room only a few moments before Shen, adjusting his glasses while appearing to squint, as if to correct his failing vision to read a contract’s fine print…before gasping.

“They’re _nearly_ **identical**! What is the third screen…?”

“ ** _That_** …is the brain scan of one of our earliest applicants to the X-Com program, a former Marine, veteran of the First Gulf War. Highly decorated and recommended but unfortunately, we had to reject their admission when the results of their scans came back, along with a more up-to-date medical history then what was given to us by the Council. It would seem they had ‘ _accidently’_ left out the candidate had been diagnosed long ago with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder…and though you can tell from the right screen that the human candidate has significantly more tissue scarring due to constant exposure to _cortisol_ , the stress hormone which typically sparks our species’ ‘ **fight or flight’** responses….”

“The overexposure to such hormones can lead to permanent inflammation in parts of the brain, as we can see with the human candidate. And though the creature is not of our species, its brain structure does appear to be structured very similar, and though the Septarian’s aforementioned astounding healing has prevented any significant scarring, do note the areas of its brain which are having the most activity…the very same spots where our rejected candidate has been affected…and while it is currently recovering from significant physical damage, it would appear it **_isn’t_** immune to mental damages as well, as whatever this **_Septarian_** has seen and experienced has left _some_ impression on it... **So** , if we’re to assume that this creature experiences PTSD like a human would, it could be theorized that it’s…having a nightmare...”

“…A _Nightmare_ …” Bradford repeated with a look of complete disbelief, right down to the curving tip of his raised eyebrow. “…Who would’ve guessed that aliens _could_ have nightmares…”

“The scarier thing to take from _this_ revelation, is what could **scare** this **_Septarian_** , a creature which I remind you can practically heal from any wound and fight Chryssalids in close quarters, **so** _badly_ , that it gave it **_nightmares_** …”

 _That_ sobering thought was as unwelcomed as the silence that hung in the air as four sets of eyes gazed at the barely moving form laid up in the holding cell. This **_Septarian_** was a possible rogue element, something that could be either change the war in Earth and Humanity’s favor, or prove to be yet another one of the aliens’ mind games, baiting X-Com to make a mistake and go for the killing strike. If the Commander to base his decision on the information they had acquired over time as well past experience, it would be better to milk this new captive for as much information could be gleaned by the Doctor’s ‘ _methods’_ and after **_that_** …whatever could be collected from the **remains**...

... ** _But_** …

Zhang’s mission report as well as very ‘ _personal’_ comments made during the brief one on one post-op discussion, weighed heavily on the Commander’s thoughts…and Zhang’s gut feelings had proven more than once to be reliable.  Perhaps it would be better to hear the **_Septarian_** out…perhaps for once in this whole damned conflict, they could find _allies_ in this war of the worlds. It was all up to the Commander to decide, whether to pursue this **_Septarian_** as a possible ally…or just another captured X-Ray…

As if someone were listening to his inner thoughts, Bradford suddenly stood ramrod straight, fingers pressed to his ear piece, a look of concentrated focus, its gaze burrowing into the nearest wall.

“Yes, this is Bradford…I see. _Yes_. I’m with the Commander right now…I see… **Yes** , of _course_. I’ll relay the message. Thank You.”

Whatever brief message was sent to Bradford, he found three sets of eyes locked onto him as his body remained firm and rigid, locking eyes with the Commander, who looked back with a much more laid back brow raise.

“I imagine the Council would wish to discuss the recent mission?”

Bradford’s mouth hung open a moment or two before snapping close and sighing with a smile.

“Yes sir…The Spokesman is on the line right now…” Bradford replied as he’d lean over to the holo-console and type in a few key strokes and button presses.

The lights would suddenly dim in the room as the holo screen would suddenly shut off, as did the cascade of images and data on the wall-mounted screen, leaving only a single active video screen, where a single figure remained silent, watching the room. The figure, whose silhouette seemed to indicate as a man given the general shape, as a good deal was hidden within shadow while a faint blue light blared from behind the seated figure. And though they could not see ‘ _his’_ eyes, all four people could feel the piecing gaze.

The Commander, unphased by such intimidation tactics, gently nodded his head, waving a hand to the other three

“It would appear that I need to take this **_now_** …if you would all please step out, I would like to speak with him alone…I believe you three have things to take in hand, _yes_ …?”

A brief glance was shared between Shen, Vahlen, and Bradford, before all three gave a uniform nod and parroted

“Yes, Commander”

And with that, three soon departed, the door unlocking with a click and whoosing open and closed…soon leaving The Commander with the Spokesman of the Council, the two staring one another down for a few cold, quiet moments, before it was the Council’s Mouthpiece who chose to break the ice, their voice made so inhuman and robotically monotone by the obvious synthesized filter…

“Hello, **_Commander_**. It would seem the mission in Newfoundland was… _more_ than what even **We _, The Council_** , could have suspected of the aliens...”

“Yes, I’m afraid what we found in Barbeau Bay could not be allowed to spread to any other outlying areas…”

The figure leaned forward in their seat, the camera focusing on their hidden face.

“ _Yes_ , **_The Council_** suspected as such. _We_ were **expecting** your report as soon as the investigative team returned to base, and yet it is **_The Council_** whom is calling _YOU_ , **Commander** …”

The Commander’s brow raised as he’d slowly untangled his arms from behind, having assumed a rigid, military pose, as to be expected of the leader of a paramilitary organization…and now folded those arms with a sense of annoyance.

“We were still reviewing the information received by firsthand accounts, and what could be recovered from the body cameras. The only physical body camera recovered is being examined and prepared for transfer onto the final upload package as per Council requests on such missions. Other body cam recordings are, _unfortunately_ , is the corrupted digital backups sent by our **_unfinished_** satellite network linkup, which I may remind the **_council_** , we’ve been experiencing **consistent** issues due to _interference_ from causes _both_ **natural** and **_UNIDENTIFIABLE_** …”

“The _tone_ is **unnecessary** , **_Commander_**.” interrupted the Spokesman, which warranted a sharp, shark-like smile from said Commander.

“ **Oh** , _is it_? **_Well_** , perhaps it is, but then, I believe I’ve made my positions **_very_** clear to the **_council_** that having a **secure** and _well-established_ satellite network would provide X-Com with a number of very **_necessary_** options in this ongoing conflict between us and the aliens. The fact that the **_Council_** has chosen only to provide us with the base resources to build our own, is of course _appreciated_ …up to a point, as it seems that **_some_** of the _Nations_ on the **_Council_** seem to put the self-serving politics of **their** _individual_ **_countries_** over the safety and wellbeing of **_the entire human race_** …”

“And _, like before_ , this **_Council_** has made **their** positions **_very clear_** , that assisting any further in the development of such a network by _specific_ Council nations would raise concerns of… ** _favoritism_** , being shown by the X-Com organization…” The Spokesman soothed, though the **accusation** was nevertheless hanging before the Commander like an executioner’s noose.

The Commander’s laugh at that was _short_ and **full** of **_venom_**.

“ _Please_ , **Favoritism**? No matter what my decision has been, it’s always been for the whole of the world and its people, **_not_** for any _single_ nation **or** government. The fact that the **_Council_** would rather focus on who should benefit from X-Com’s assistance _or_ advances for their own personal gains _instead_ of the safety of **_ALL_** humans, just goes to show that they’re **_hardly_** fit to lead their people, much less **_dictate_** what X-Com **should** or _should **not**_ do…”

Whatever the Commander would say next, would be stopped by the Spokesperson slamming a hand down on the table before them, a sliver of the figure’s genuine anger slipping through the perfectly altered audio feed.

“ ** _ENOUGH, COMMANDER_**. _We_ are **Not** **_The Enemy_**. **_We_** _understand_ the complex nature of **your** organization’s mission, and what is asked of **_you_** and the people under **_your_** command. **_The Council_** … ** _I_** , do not wish for further internal conflict between the **Council _and_** _X-Com_ …”

The Commander’s face betrayed no visible reaction, but within his innermost thoughts, _this_ caught his attention. It was **_very_** rare to see the _Spokesman_ express his individual views on the matters of the **_Council_** , but then, given how many of the Council nations acted in response to X-Com, why shouldn’t he expect such behavior to be reflected in the so-called ‘ ** _Voice’_** of the **_Council_**. Taking a deep breath, the Commander replied,

“ _Neither_ **do** **_I_**. The last thing X-Com needs is to fight a war on two fronts, from an enemy _unknown_ as well as that from **within** …but, be that as it may, there’s only **_so_** much that my organization can do at this time. I wish to reassure the **_Council_** that X-Com will to send **_all_** of its reports and findings of the _Mission: **Exiled Serpent**_ , once all could be collected proper…”

The Spokesman, settling back in their seat, nodded at the Commander’s assurances,

“And from X-Com’s previous records, you have done… _admirably_ despite these **limitations**. The **_Council_** _recognizes_ those efforts, Commander, but you **must** understand from the point of view **_OF_** the **_Council_** , the _complete_ and **utter** **_eradication_** of Barbeau Bay has left many on the **_Council_** … _concerned_.”

 “And **may** I _remind_ The **_Council_** that, although **we** **_recognize_** _our_ resources come from **_Their_** respective nations, as well as the support of **_Their_** governments when _we’re_ present **within** **_Their_** countries, that X-Com is the one who have people, on the ground and in the air, **_fighting_** on the _front-line_?...”

“The **_Council_** does of course _understand_ th-“

“ ** _The investigative team_** , as was mentioned prior, was comprised of **six** of the **_most_** _highly trained_ and **best equipped** soldiers **_this_** world had to offer. Men and Women who’d sworn to give their _bodies_ , _minds_ , and **_souls_** for the **_protection_** of their fellow Earthlings. _Only_ **one** came back in. The rest of his team? They were **_ripped to shreds_** , **torn apart** , one even used as some _sick_ cocoon to birth more of the hideous spawn the aliens had let loose upon our world, before having to be **_put down_** by his fellow man…”

The Commander paused for breath as to loosen some of the building steam within him, keeping his mind cold and his voice colder, piercing eyes daring the Spokesman to speak. The **_Voice_** of the **_Council_** …remained _silent_. The Commander carried on, slowly stepping closer to the screen.

“ **Barbeau Bay** was an **_unfortunate_** loss, _yes_ , one of X-Com’s worst in its short _but_ **very** descriptive history, both in terms of the many lives which were lost before X-Com could arrive to stop it, as well as what was sacrificed **_TO_** stop it. The entire village had been wiped out, taken over by the infected masses, born from sea life and from human lives…an **_infection_** so _rapid_ and **destructive** , it warranted _a surgical strike_ to **completely** remove any possible outbreak in the outlying regions…and again, this was **_but_** a simple fishing village. St.John’s was only a handful of miles away, and that city has a population of over **_200,000_** people. I can **_barely_** stomach the nightmare realized in Barbeau Bay, so imagine the **_revulsion_** I have to even consider what **_THAT_** could look like. So **DON’T**. **Do** _NOT_ **_tell me_** what the **_Council_** is _concerned_ by, or rather, what it should feel **_I_** should be **concerned** with. My people are risking more than just **_their_** lives, they are risking the _complete_ **extinction** of **_our_** race **_and_** the **world** as _we_ know it, and the **_Council_** should be _more_ **concerned** with how **_THEY_** choose to act. If the _rest of the world_ **, the people** the **_Council nations_** ‘ _represent’_ , knew what we **BOTH** _know_ the **_Council’s_** consider as ‘ _worthy concerns_ ’…”

The Commander glared up at the gigantic shadowy figure who spoke to him behind a wall of safe anonymity, still visibly agitated as if looking into those accusing eyes and bright, white smile… **no** , _not_ a smile.

How the Commander showed his teeth was a bearing of **_fangs_** , not a **smile** , not with how _chilling_ it was.

 _“The **People** would _ **eat** _The **Council** _ **alive** _.”_

In the dimly lit Situation Room, The Commander basked in the blue glow of the Spokesman’s ‘halo’, awaiting an answer, daring for one.

“…You are, _of course_ , **_correct_** , **Commander**. The **_Council_** is _very_ **much** **_aware_** of _this_ , many of its members are in fact **_blinded_** by this fact, its _dictating_ their actions and **this** has made others on the **_Council_** … _unsure of **them**_ …and of **you**.”

Another moment of unexpected honesty from the Spokesman, but the Commander remained in place, his face now impassive, and the supposed ‘smile’ gone in place of a mask of controlled neutrality.

 “The **_Council_** understands _your_ stance concerning the recent mission. And all though _some_ on the **_Council_** are most _displeased_ with how this has been handled, the **_majority_** as **whole** come to understand that _sacrifices_ **must** **_be made_** , given what has been gleaned by the reports coming in. **_We_** still wish to be provided a _full_ explanation, but for _now_ **Commander** , **_we_** shall leave you in peace to gather your reports as well as to mourn for your soldiers. **_We_** … ** _This Council_** … _express_ its **deepest** _condolences_ for the loss in **_your_** organization…”

The Commander solemnly nodded,

“Thank you…I apologize for my heated words and accusations, but _you_ **and** **_The Council_** have to understand, that this is a _two-way street_ , the relationship between X-Com and The **_Council_**. For X-Com to function, _we_ **need** to work **_together_** , and the stifling amount of bureaucracy from The **_Council_** as well as inner politics between countries _FROM_ The **_Council_** , does **nothing** but **_benefit_** our common enemy. I, as well as X-Com, _always_ **have** and _always_ **will** , remain dedicated to the fight against the Alien Menace, and only _hope_ that the **_Council_** will **remember** its own words. That **_WE_** are not the enemy. **We Are Watchful**. _We Are Relied Upon_. **_Vigilo Confido_** _.”_

The shadowy Spokesman sat in place, the impression of their hands steeple before them, looking upon the Commander, judging him in silence…be leaning back in their chair.

“ _Indeed_ you are, **Commander**. That will be all for now. But _remember_ , **Commander** … ** _We_** … ** _Will Be_** **_Watching_** …”

And with that, the Council feed ended, casting the Situation Room in near darkness.

To the relief of the Commander, who breathed through his nose, taking comfort in the shadows and in the silence, alone with no one but his own thoughts. So much to be done. What to start with…

A faint buzzing in his ear made The Commander press two fingers to his comm.-link

“Bradford?”

“ _Commander, I apologize for interrupting your briefing with the Council…_ ”

“It’s fine, I just wrapped up, what’s the situation?”

“ _Oh! Uh, well, our **guest** has finally woken up and…um…_ ”

“Bradford…?”

“ _He asked us to take him to our leader…_ ”

*************************************************************************************

_Exhaustion_

_Confusion_

_Panic_

_All assailed Toffee as bright young eyes darted around as he’d stumble, lost amongst the many bodies of so many different shapes, creatures like him and some not, all united in their mass exodus away from what had been their home, trying to survive, trying to flee, to escape…_

_Escape from THE INVADERS_

_They’d left so much of their lives behind, carrying whatever could be salvaged in mere moments before flying off into the night with the hope that the sacrifice of that alone could allow them to see another dawn’s rise. He knew it was night because the sky was only a lit by blanket of star and moons. And it was so cold, his scales were much too underdeveloped, too soft to provide much protection to the night air, much less what hunted him now. He was still so very tired, so very confused as he was led along, a larger hand holding to his with strength determined NEVER to let go. His tender feet ached, and likely would’ve been cut and bleeding across the harsh branch and rough terrain of the forest if it weren’t the gifts of his species, healing almost instantly but it did nothing for the pain._

_His pitiful little keening noises were lost amongst the cries and shouts of those around him, but they were still heard as he’d feel the hand holding his suddenly pull him forward as he’d feel his bare little feet lift off the ground and suddenly, that awful night chill seemed to disappear, replaced with a much more familiar warmth, his nostrils drinking in the smell accompanying and immediately was awash in a sense of safety and love, recognizing his mother. The brush of her nuzzling snout soothed his nerves, gentle shushushuing and hissing noises as she’d hold him oh so tight made him so much safer. He clung so tightly back. He wanted them to go home; he wanted to be in his bed. He wanted them to be happy again. He wanted…_

_A loud boom snapped Toffee as cries of horror rang out all around him as he’d peek out from his mother’s embrace, looking to the direction as a painful bright light seemed to bathe the masses, a bright violet which under other circumstances would enthrall a young hatchling like him, so mysterious and unnatural. Even from where they stood, the light was so bright, almost like staring at the sun, where as the distant shadowed figure (‘A Mewman!’ thought the held hatchling) whom stood beneath the small but unmistakably POWERFUL light stood on high, standing atop a cliff edge that normally would be unable to peer into the forest they were in…if it were for the now sizzling and sheared tops of the trees, falling ash sprinkling down like snow. The Invader looked down at them all, looking upon them in judgment…and began to lower that terrible and beautiful light at them._

_A large shape suddenly filled Toffee’s vision as it would press upon him, cloaking him darkness and pressure as he felt his mother pull this other, larger shape into them. Its scent mingled with hers, and he knew it as immediate as hers. Father! He’d protect him and his mother, he always did. He was strong, he was so smart, fast so…_

_“I’m so sorry, my love…I’ve doomed us all…”_

_Toffee frowned, confused, the words making no sense to him as he’d feel…rain? Water dropped and splashed upon his short snout, his tongue flicking out of instinct. No, not rain drops. Those were cool and refreshing. These were hot and tasted bitter, of salt. These were…tears? His father was crying…as was his mother._

_“It’s not your fault, what could you have done…I love you…I love you both so much…” She’d croon as he felt them hold tighter as his father’s arms joined his mothers around him, hugging him close as he felt their bodies shake and tremble as two pairs of lips press upon his forehead and cheek, their tears splashing down upon him so, he hardly felt his own tears streaming down his face, so hot and burning._

_“Oh…Toffee…you were so young…I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…”_

_Before he could ask why, or cry out , or do anything, the warm embracing darkness gave way to a sudden and very painful heat…and then…there was LIGHT…_

Toffee gasped as his body wracked with an intense pain, rumbling forth from his stomach as he’d gulp and struggle to breathe as what felt like liquid **_FIRE_** was roiling inside him, forcing him to finally wake up from…from…an all too familiar nightmare. He’d roll onto his front, his palms thrust down as they’d slam to the floor, a very pristine and clean looking floor…though it wasn’t so in the next moment as his gaping jaws remained open as a gout of disgusting yellow ichors and fluids proceeded to be regurgitate and spill from body, a familiar oily sweet odor pervaded his nostrils as Toffee would begin to dry heave, his body shuddered and quaked as to expel the last of what to his coated tongue and smacking lips would recognize as the very venom which had nearly killed him before.

The strained and significantly weakened Septarian would flop onto his side, gulping up as much air as he’d imbibe, a look of utter and complete disgust as it still had a tinge of that awful poison which had been previously running within his body. It took moments longer then he would be comfortable to admit, but the sense of vulnerability and lingering sickness began to finally fade as he’d push himself to a sitting position and finally take in his surroundings, his vision somewhat hampered by the annoyance the bright light, shading his brow as he’d try to see.

He was in a room of sorts. A round room whose walls were of some sort of glass, as he could see out and see what was within an even larger room, filled with odd devices and from he could see, ‘ _others’_. He’d snort as he’d begin to rise, pressing a palm against the glass to brace him, only to hiss as a gentle **_but_** no less sudden buzz of pain made him pull away. He’d look at the hurt palm, and though for a momentary redness that quickly healed away, he was no worse for wear. Hmmm, no bars but this was a cage nonetheless, of particular design and make he was not familiar with. It would appear that these ‘ _humans’_ were not naïve enough to leave him unchecked despite being unconscious. Smart, but hardly welcoming.

He’d step a good deal closer and scowled into the wider room, watching as there were quite a few of humans milling about, some were dressed in long white cloaks that covered most of their bodies, others stood by clothed in odd padded attire of cyan hue and black, holding the smaller cannons he saw shortly before his incapacitation. They held their weapons carefully, not raised at him but at the ready nonetheless.

Not one human looked like the other as he saw skins of pale white to darkest browns, and tones in between, as well as a mix of both men and women. The ones clothed in white cloaks were all looking between odd little flat devices in their hands and then at him, while those in the cyan and black were watching him just as closely, though from their narrowed brows and firm expressions. They all seemed to have a keen interest in him…and he bit back the need to snarl as he felt like some sort of caged animal, a wondrous and exotic amusement to the humans, hardly something worth to consider as anything more but a subject of _mockery_.

At least, that was his impression…until he saw far off doors suddenly whoosh open as three new figures enter, the eyes of many of the coated humans turned to face them, and given the mixed reactions of the cyan uniformed humans saluting as well as nods of the white cloaked humans as both groups stepped aside and deferred to the three. _Ah_ , now he could see a clear hierarchy forming, as these three were clearly recognized superiors of a sort. Yet nothing about them seemed particularly impressive.

On the left was a human, young and male based on the broad shouldered build, skin a healthy looking pink while the hair was a chestnut brown. Cleanly shave with Strong jaw which was currently bared in a tensed grim frown, looking at Toffee right back with deep brown eyes unwilling to look away. Yes, _this_ one was a soldier; Toffee would recognize that well-practiced and firmly entrenched military body language, even despite the fact he was not in any form of armor or even the padded looking cyan uniforms of the soldiers, instead wearing a green woolen-looking garment with the same crest matching the one he saw on the soldiers, as well as simple looking trousers and shoes. Definitely an officer of some kind if one was to wear something like that, someone of importance but not to be on the frontlines. The other two who accompanied him, however, were a bit more puzzling and therefore, of more immediate interest.

The one stood to the right was a human woman, certain features making that evident, such as the curve and proportions of her body as well as other signs, such as chestnut brown hair which was currently wrapped and styled into a controlled bun. And _yet_ she seemed to radiate an air of confidence and power that rivaled that of the military officer, with her proud bearing evident in how she walked, and her eyes were like chipped ice: bright, blue, and chilling. Before he’d felt like an animal on showcase, but the way those eyes were directed to him, he could recognize a predator sizing up its prey. Despite garbed in a white cloak (with that ever present insignia crest peering out upon a green shirt beneath the coat), he was fairly sure she was quite dangerous, even without one of those cannons in hand. Her fingers danced upon the flat device in hands, hardly glancing at it as she’d observe him in ever so rapt and fascinated attention.

The final figure of the trio was the oddest one of all, as a much older human male walked between the officer and the woman, with once strong shoulders stooping and slouched slightly from the weight of age and experience. The top of the older human’s head laid bare, a circling ‘crown’ of snowy white hair edged around like clouds encircling a mountain’s peak, contrasting with the wrinkled, aged tan skin. A pair of glasses perched on his nose as his squinting gaze was locked onto the lizard who found that this human was…intrigued? Despite the aged frame of this human’s body, the fire that still burned behind those peering eyes was undeniable,  a keen and sharp intelligence gleamed as the trio stood by, looking up at Toffee.

And to Toffee’s credit, he stood with the grace and air of authority that came with his position as General of the armed Monster forces, but internally, he knew he likely didn’t come off as graceful as he would’ve liked, as his armor had seen far better days, as many gouges and tears could be plainly see, exposing healed scaled flesh but left shining and clammy in the long but ‘ **complicated’** ‘ _sleep’_ he’d been in, a factor in the state of his hair as well, which was untamed and wild, heavy bags under his eyes…eyes which now peered out, awaiting… _something_. His gaze would bounce between the three as he could plainly see their lips moving and yet heard nothing. _My_ , this glass cage was so impervious; it seemed to block out even sound…which concerned him as how was he getting air? His nostrils still stung from the acidic odor of the expelled venom.

The three were very clearly talking about him while he was very plainly standing before them; given the glances and gestures made in his direction. The Septarian’s tail lashed in annoyance, which seemed to catch at least one of their eyes. The older human, adjusting his glasses, turned to the woman, and nodded in Toffee’s direction and pointed at her device. This seemed to displease the younger human male, as he seemed against the idea for some reason, but the older human seemed to have made a far better point as the woman would tap her fingers on the device in her hands even while the soldier voiced his displeasure…which Toffee could now hear, though it came rather oddly as the voices came _‘around him’_ as opposed from the lips to which they sprang forth.

“…we should wait for the Commander before we begin the interrogation…”

“ _Interrogation_?” queried Toffee, eyebrow raised. To say his sudden addition to the ongoing conversation seemed to startle the three humans before him, was putting it very mildly. The young officer turned and looked with wide eyes at Toffee, whom smirked and brushed his chin with a thumb…though the smirk slipped off his lips as his thumb brushed off a lingering bit of bile, to which it was met with a noise of disgust and a flick of his finger claws.

“ ** _So_** , I would be right in assuming that despite my _willingness_ to go with your men, I am to be made a **prisoner** …?” Toffee surmised as he’d look at his finger claws, an air of unconcern and disinterest coming off him as if he didn’t just wake up vomiting up what felt like gallons of poisonous venom, inside a gilded cage.

“ _Fascinating_ …” gasped the woman, her voice sounding a good deal different from the young man’s, her tones having a bit more of suffused accent of some kind, made all the more clearer as she step closer, eyes piercing Toffee.

“It would appear that Zhang’s reports were correct. The subject is capable of Human Speech…amazing and hardly a form of impedance or slurring, despite the distinct angular shape and size of its snout, it speaks English…though its voice sounds…oddly _familiar_ …”

The Septarian’s indifference turned to annoyance as he’d glowered down at the woman, who hardly noticed, having pulled out a small stick-like object and was now pressing its tip onto the small flat object, scribbling upon it, taking notes.

“The way you said that **hardly** makes me feel that was meant as a **_compliment_** …”

“And with how quickly the subject has recovered from its comatose state, as well as after expelling the Chryssalid venom from its body, further indicates its **_impressive_** level of regenerative recuperative capabilities…”

“You know I am standing right here, and can hear you talking about me, would it be too much for you to **TALK** to me instead of just **_ABOUT_** me…?”

The older human chuckled, shaking his head as he’d look away from the woman, looking up at Toffee with a wry, lopsided grin.

“You have to understand, she’s never quite experienced meeting a subject capable, much less _WILLING_ to actually talk to a human without… **well** , _trying_ to **_kill_** said human…which would be a reason why you’re currently in one of our holding cells. Which, I feel the need to apologize…”

The younger officer seemed to take exception to that, scowling at the older man whom waved him off as he’d go on

“From what Zhang has provided in his after action report, you voluntarily relinquished yourself into his custody, something we have **_NEVER_** encountered before...”

“… _Which_ made **you** all **_immediately_** suspicious, because none of the previous ‘ _encounters’_ ever exhibited such behaviors…” Toffee picked up, frowning as he’d rub his chin, brow furrowing as he could see the humans’ concerns of taking on a prisoner, willing or not

“…Hmmm, I’m not _wholly_ against your reasoning for putting me in a cell…I’m not exactly **_HAPPY_** about it… **but** I can understand…”

The military officer, scowled a touch less at this answer, while the older human beamed as he’d nodded, the woman pausing in her mumbled if audible thoughts to look at Toffee, eyebrow raised.

“If one of **_my_** own enemies were to suddenly exhibit such behavior out of nowhere, and **_WANT_** to be taken as prisoner, that would be a cause of alarm in itself…”

“ **Exactly**!” exclaimed the older human “So, you can understand where our concerns do lay, but from your lack of an openly hostile behavior upon your return to consciousness…”

“Oh, _human_ , I’ve **yet** to really get **_hostile_** , if I’m forced to remain within this cage…” snarled Toffee, to which the younger male tensed while the woman seemed to hover a finger over the flat device, particular over a very visible red button, but neither did anything as the older human raised his hands, nodding.

“Right. Right, no, I understand _that_. Under these circumstances, we just need to clarify some details, to make sure you’re not a threat to us…by which I mean, as _part_ of the **_greater_** threat which threatens us…”

Toffee scowled but he remembered Zhang’s mention of the invaders whom brought those horrible insects upon this dimension, and since he’d made his choice and threw his lot with these humans, he could not back out now, even if he wanted to. Crossing his arms, he’d snort and frown.

“Very well…”

The older male sighed in relief, smiling a bit more openly, but before he’d continue, Toffee raised one finger claw.

“On **_one_** condition…”

“You are _hardly_ in **_any_** position to…” the woman began, only to be interrupted by the young male, holding up a hand and giving her a look, to which the woman snapped her mouth shut, though with a click and bared teeth, displeased with the officer.

“And the condition?”

“ ** _Neither_** of you is the leader, is that correct?”

Three sets of eyes looked at one another before looking to Toffee

“We are the heads of our specific departments and divisions…”

“ **And** _yet_ you mentioned a **_Commander_** before.  So there remains **one** who is **_above_** you _all_. I wish to speak with **_him_** …” Toffee requested quite clearly, folding his hands behind his back, tail swishing gently.

Again, three sets of eyes looked at one another, before a silent consensus was reached and the younger man removed himself from the conversation as he’d press his fingers to an ear, his words fading too far out of earshot of whatever was providing their voices to him.

“The Commander is being summoned as we speak, although he was currently… _indisposed_ the last we saw him…” The older human explained, “…but until he arrives, could we at least answer some very **basic** questions…such as your _name_?”

Toffee considered it…and only gave in as he hoped that with an actual name to be referred to, he would at least stop hearing that woman’s mumbled labeling of ‘ _Subject’_ or ‘ **It’**.

“I’ve been referred to as _The General_ by my soldiers, **The Lizard** to my enemies…but for the purpose of our continued interactions…you may call me **_Toffee_** …”

The looks on both the human female and the older male was most amusing to be sure as the look of sheer incredulity on the woman was matched by the open mouthed pause of the older male…

“ _Toffee_? Is that what I heard correctly?” asked the older male

“Yes, that is correct. **Toffee** …is there a _problem_ with that?”

“No, no, it’s just, _unexpected_ , as on our planet, we have a dessert which is c-“ the older male started, only to be cut off by the human female.

“Zhang said you referred to yourself as **_Septarian_**...”

“ **Which** _I_ **_am_** , as that is the name of my _species_ , though he never asked my name…which reminds me, **_whom_** _am_ **I** speaking too…?”

The older male, waiting to see if the female besides him would blind side him verbally again, shook his head while she seemed to take this clarification in stride, stylus blurring on her device.

“I am **_Dr.Raymond Shen_** , and this is my colleague is **_Dr.Moira Vahlen_**. The gentleman who came in with us is Central Officer **_John Bradford_** …” introduced Shen, though he’d glance back to indicate Bradford just as the doors whoosed open again, as a fourth human emerged, though given the lighting differences between the outer room and the holding container, Toffee squinted to get a better look at this new human.

The human wore neither military armor or any of the long white cloaks like Doctor Vahlen wore. Instead, as the human would adjust an immaculate red tie, and adjust a white collar, the pristine black suit it wore seemed to have been tailored perfectly for this human, shoes clicking as Toffee now looked at this new arrival properly…and felt whatever breath he’d regain get knocked right out of him.

From the looks of the other humans, they were just realizing it too, if the widening eyes was something to go off of. Something had clicked into place, some niggling thought that Shen, Vahlen, and even Bradford had thought in some length when they finally encountered their newest ‘ _guest’_ , face to face.

Something about Toffee’s voice, his body language, his whole _BEING_. Despite it being clearly of a whole different species, of a cold blooded reptile, something **familiar** about him, but no one of the trio could reach a connection...

…Until **_now_**.

The Commander finally stepped out into the stark light of Toffee’s cage and presented himself, gazing up at Toffee with a look of intrigued interest while he’d idly brush a hand along his locks of fine black hair. A loose lock drooped over his forehead, the color of deep ebony clashing with the lighter, ashier grey umber of his skin. The darkness of hair and flesh only brought out the golden fire-light of the Commanders eyes…eyes of amber that looked out and met eyes of amber…as both The General and The Commander were looking back in what might be conceived as quite a twisted mirror’s reflections…

“… _Well_ , **well** …it would appear that we have **_MUCH_** to talk about now, don’t we… ** _Toffee_**?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, I'm still alive and so is this story! Here's a brand new chapter and here's hoping more will be posted in a quicker fashion.
> 
> Though in the meantime, thank you for all the comments and kudos, they've really been helpful in getting me to keep going at these stories! Hearing whatever you folks have to say really helps lift my spirits and gets my creative mind working~! Thanks again and hope you've enjoyed!


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